Infection
by Self-Titled Demo
Summary: Antonio didn't know what to think of the man who randomly showed up in his home... completely naked. Yet, he still found himself drawn to this "Lovino", only to be thrown into his worst nightmare. AU, Human names used. DISCONTINUED-remaining plot on last chapter.
1. Infect me with your love

**I feel Spamano needs more horror stories that aren't overly sappy, so I wrote this. I had this planned out since about chapter 12 of Sound Life, so to me it really isn't much of a new fic.**

**As for warnings... This fic will be very graphic in terms of adult themes, images of gore, and other concepts that wouldn't be too appropriate for children.**

**There will also be multiple pairings in this story, but the main focus will be Spamano. There will be slight onesided Spain x Italy, Fr x Sp, FrUk, UsUk, etc.**

**As for the plot, I don't think its nearly as complicated as S.L. You just have to pay attention.**

**And I do not own Hetalia. :C  
><strong>

* * *

><p>For the first official day of summer, it just sucked... more than usual for the habitually blithe Spaniard.<p>

It all began earlier that day.

He was stuck in a meeting with certain individuals he really didn't want to see for another few months. _Nobody_ wanted to be there, not even Ludwig, who seemed to thrive on such mundane topics or any situation where he would be regarded as the leader, yet they all suffered though the hellish boredom, each finding their own way to entertain themselves. Alfred obstinately refused to stop talking above anyone giving their presentation, somehow offending Arthur in the process, who began to spout out slurred insults that only a Briton could comprehend. Francis laughed at the fuming, bush-browed blond, earning a punch from the American in return. From there, more people joined in just for the sake of a good fight, arguing, yelling and throwing pens at each other, before Ludwig bellowed over the crowd and directed the meeting back to where it was _supposed_ to be in the first place.

This was a normal occurrence.

Antonio usually kept to himself when it was someone's turn to present, even now as he blankly stared at the Canadian quietly giving his speech. It wasn't particularly exciting, but it also wasn't his choice to be there. While he would rather be back in Spain and flirting with the pretty girls there, he was stuck in America for the next month because his boss demanded that he stopped his lazy habits and actually worked for once. His superior just didn't understand how hard flirting and gardening really was. But in the end, Antonio never fought with his boss over such topics; if he came to these meetings, he would _always_ see the love of his life.

_Feliciano Vargas_.

Yes, that stunning man who sat across the table from the Spaniard. Always smiling, always happy and giggling at the smallest things, it made Antonio's heart flutter every time they briefly made eye contact during some of the meetings. He loved everything about the Italian, from the way he dressed in such lively colours, to the clueless air that seemed to surround him and even that verbal tic he seemed to have. Feliciano was so cute, and loveable in every single way, making it hard for the Spaniard to think of anyone else who could be better. There probably wasn't.

Francis and Gilbert often teased the Iberian about his soft spot for the doe-eyed brunet, claiming that if they got married, they would be kicked out of their home for radiating so much sunshine and rainbows. That meant they were perfect for each other, right? And he didn't give way to any of Gil's warnings about the man, especially that his family was deeply connected with the mafia and _bad _things seemed to happen to the people he loved. That and he was already in a relationship.

Sweet little Feli couldn't _possibly_ be a bad man, and Antonio had never seen him with another person. Gilbert was just trying to scare him, he was sure.

The Canadian, Matthew, if he recalled his name correctly, finished his presentation and proceeded to take his seat after a small _thank you_ to the other members of the group. They applauded him, and then the next person stood to begin their speech; a tall Russian man who was known to have a love-hate relationship with Alfred. Such a childlike voice came from the massive male, easily luring anyone who didn't know him into a false sense of security but Antonio chose not to pay much attention to his speech.

Once again his attention was drawn to the Italian, who finally allowed his eyes to drift to Antonio; a sweet smile gently stretched his cherry lips, sending a shock through the Spaniard's heart, much like the fluttering of a chick's wings. It was a game the two played; every meeting, they would stare each other down but never talk afterwards; flirting from across the room under the noses of the others, or at least that was what Antonio wanted to think it as. In truth, it was usually nothing but smiles and grins.

Eventually, the group momentarily released for a restroom and snack break with each member filing out of the room one by one. After organizing his notes littered with tiny sketches of tomatoes and his cat, Antonio left the empty room, making sure to turn the light off and close the door behind him. He sighed, thinking of what he could have for a small snack as he strolled down the rather bland hallway, blankly staring at the cream walls and the little specks of white printed above the wooden panels reaching up to his waist. Some churros would be nice or even a plump tomato. Maybe both at the same time. Oh, yes... That would be perfect, and maybe he could even share two or three with that cute Italian.

Antonio hummed to himself at the thought, following the wall without really thinking of where he was going as he allowed his feet to go wherever they wanted. He passed a few people, automatically smiling and greeting even if they frowned at the sundrenched Spaniard or grumbled under their breath. It didn't matter if their day was bad. Eventually, something would come along and brighten it up.

Then, with how easily the world had been blurred in his mind, Antonio managed to run into someone, nearly knocking them over. He slightly panicked; overly worried that he hurt whoever he bumped into, so he scrambled to help them up, brushing off dust that may have collected onto the person all while repeating that he was sorry over and over.

"It's okay, I'm fine~" the person cooed in a sugary voice that sent a chill down Antonio's spine. He stared down, instantly losing himself on those caramel eyes; Feliciano... oh, god he bumped into _Feliciano_, and how he was so much more gorgeous up close, easily putting his appearance at a distance to shame. So absolutely stunning. "Oh~ It's you, Antonio!" Feliciano happily hummed once he realised who had nearly trampled him and wrapped his arms around the Spaniard, completely oblivious to how hard his heart was hammering behind his ribs.

"Y-Y-Yeah... it's me." He somehow managed to choke out through the nervous wads collecting in his throat and chest. An aroma drifted up into his nose, radiated from the man still hugging him, reminding him of pasta with a succulent wine and olives.

Feliciano pulled back, grinning like a child who just ate something delicious. "It's so good to finally talk to you! I alwa-" He continued to babble on and on, most of the words lost to the Spaniard sine the only thing he could concentrate on was the warmth in his hand; Feliciano was still holding it, swaying it back and forth in his grip, all while still smiling. It nearly took everything he had to not swoon over the man more than he already was; he was just too adorable and he wanted him to be his.

"Feli..." Antonio mumbled, feeling his heart flutter when chocolate eyes focused on him, batting those beautiful lashes at the man as he smiled. "I have something...to ask you."

The Italian's head tilted to the side, curiosity bubbling behind his irises. "Ve~ what is it?"

Harsh lumps were swallowed down as Antonio licked his lips, trying as hard as he could to dampen his suddenly dry mouth. He couldn't mess up now... not with him so close to his key of happiness. As such, he huffed, regaining the strength that coursed through his Spanish blood, fighting away the nervousness that earlier clogged his veins. "I really like you, Feliciano, and I-" Everything seemed to go downhill from there...

_That_ was three hours ago.

Melodic twangs of a local band's lead guitarist twittered from the blown stock speakers of Antonio's rickety rental, sputtering static out of the warped mesh with each bump the tires clattered over. He tapped his finger against the thread bare leather of the steering-wheel in tune with the dips and rises of the bass, humming behind the slurred mumbles that flickered against his tongue and the back of his pearly white teeth. So glad, he was, finally making his drive to his small cottage nestled in the woods of Virginia.

Antonio sighed, thinking over how _happily_ Feliciano rejected him, quickly informing him of his love for the blond German. It was just as Gilbert had said, and in all honesty, Antonio was ashamed that he didn't take his dear friend's warning to heart... all of this could've been avoided. Yet, the worst part about it had to be how _easily_ Feliciano brushed him off, as if he had no idea how much Antonio liked him in the first place. What would he do? It felt like a hole had been ripped into his heart, slowly draining away what happiness he stored in the organ, but... he couldn't just give up. No. It would take some time to heal, but he'd hopefully get over the Italian once he met a lovely girl, or even a man that would be willing date him. Things would get better... they always did. If anything, Gil and Fran would come over in a few days to make him feel better the way that they _always_ did.

'Friends with benefits'... heh. They weren't as bad as other people claimed them to be.

The headlights dully flickered, throwing shapes and light against the eerie foliage surrounding the dirt road. Antonio sighed and scratched his ankle with his opposite foot as something tickled at it; just his pants leg, no doubt. He sighed once more. What a day... oh what a day. It had been overly hot throughout the afternoon, and even now, with the sun nestled behind the western line of trees, he had to keep his car's ancient AC on high just to prevent his shirt from sticking to his back. Not to mention _something_ kept tingling at his ankle, making him come dangerously close to slamming his breaks, probably knocking something loose in the beat-up auto in the process, and jumping out to rip off his pants. As lovely as it seemed, the thought of leather sticking to his sweat lathered thighs definably wasn't pleasing on his drained mind. All he wanted to do was to go home, tug off his shoes and pass out on his bed.

He already had enough disappointment for one day.

More of that American music strummed its way out of his terrible speakers, drowning him in the harsh, grating words of the English language and building up the longing for his natural tongue to grace his ears. Was it really too much to ask for some decent Spanish music on the few stations his radio picked up? All that ever seemed to play was that mariachi style when he craved something simpler and softer to the ears. He _did_ have a few CD's in his bags under his bed, along with a decent player but it didn't help him in his long drive from the meetings to his home. At least he _could_ listen to it when he got home, but it would have to wait until morning.

A dull, pulsating green illuminated the small space inside the rented vehicle, glimmering against the sweat beads gathering on the tips of the hairs lining his arms as the numbers flashed twelve. Antonio groaned, tapping one of his blunt nails against the analog clock's glass, only to have it completely burn out, leaving the interior of the car black, save for the persistent flash of a single, tiny red bulb on the top of the Spaniard's cellphone. Just peachy. Next time he was sent to one of these stupid meetings in America, he would pester Alfred until he could borrow one of the blond's _many_ vehicles and he didn't care which one. Hell, he'd be happy with an old straight-shift if it meant he could get home without worrying for his personal safety.

But luck just wasn't on his side today; with a guttural roar, a metallic whine and one final boom, the engine met the end of its days, rolling the car to a stop only a few feet from a tiny wooden bridge that was barely wide enough for the run-down Ford...meaning that Antonio _still_ had a good two miles before he could climb into his bed. Why did everything in America hate him?

Boling with more frustration than could possibly be good for his health, he slammed his head against the steering-wheel, pressing the patch of leather over his horn. It blared out into the darkness, echoing back against the trees as startled birds scrambled in every direction, chattering and squawking along the inky stars lining the heavens. He whined to no one in particular and blindly grasped for the door handle, cursing once it broke off of its hinges and clattered down into the floorboard. "Why does everything hate me?" Sighing, he reached out through the window, tugging on the outside handle to open the door; it swung out with a creak, forcing Antonio to stick out his foot in order to prevent it from coming back and smacking him in the face, although, by this point it couldn't put a dent in his already horrible day.

He grabbed his cellphone before stepping out of his car, groaning as his sweat drenched shirt peeled off of both the seat and his back. Now, he wished that he just took a plane back to his Spanish home and left whatever was locked away in his cottage. He didn't need any of it and he had plenty of clothes back in Spain. But did he do that? No; he decided to be the faithful friend that he was and remained in America, just because Francis and Gilbert asked him to, only to ditch him the moment the meeting ended. He hated always being such a nice, caring person, but there wasn't anything he could do about it. Besides, seeing the faces of people whose days he made was worth every single bit of the crap he got from people who took advantage of his hospitality.

After slamming the door shut with a grunt, Antonio glanced around the small dirt road surrounded by black fingered trees bristling with leaves and the beady eyes of nocturnal creatures. Nothing in particular caught his interest, but just for safety measures, he checked the magazine of the handgun he pulled from its holster neatly strapped around his waist and hummed in delight as the fully loaded cartridge clicked back into its place. It was a shame that he didn't bring a flashlight with him, but thankfully the moon was lazily drifting along the clouds, showering Antonio in her silver curtains of light. With one last glance at the pile of metal he was forced to call an automobile, he began his march towards his home, keeping his gun tightly clinched in his hand and his eyes constantly shifting from place to place.

At least it was a beautiful night, save for the humidity and heat, but he still couldn't help but to sigh. Rejection, freakishly high temperatures and a broken-down car... all in one day... Someone up high had a grudge against him, he just knew it. Maybe it was because he didn't go to church enough, or because he attracted to men _and_ women, but it wasn't like he did anything too terribly wrong... well, in his own eyes anyway. It was just as his father said; he was a _horrible_ Catholic. Perhaps his cottage wouldn't have anything against him and would remain relatively cool, alongside his nice and soft bed that was far too large for a single person. If anything, it kept him from rolling off of the side like he tended to do when he slept alone, otherwise he'd cuddle up to the person sharing his bed and not move an inch.

The forest continuously shuttered and whimpered out a sorrowful tune, and Antonio considered humming along to the tiny nocturnal animals scurrying back and forth, playing, fighting and doing whatever else they do during the night. Somehow, it soothed some of the pain in Antonio's mind and he would've been completely calm if it wasn't for that tingle constantly assaulting his ankle. It was so bothersome and annoying, like something squirming around under his sock. Yet, just as he considered reaching down to see what the hell it was, a shrill beeping screamed in his ear and his phone vibrated in his pocket. He fished it out, squinting at the bright flashes indicating he had a message.

With a single press of a button, the electronic mail opened, providing Antonio with a picture of what looked to be a crimson worm, maybe about the length of his middle finger, neatly laying in a glass container labelled 'Proto-Q'. It sat upon a desk littered with folders and papers titled 'Eugenics Inc' in fine, silver letters. Under the picture was a short message:

**From:** **Alfred**

_Hey_

_lost my pet worm if either of you see it catch it in a jar and bring it back to me don't touch it! gets sick very easily_

_Artie Ludwig don't tell any1 about this especially that commie. :D_

**June 20, 10:38pm**

A pet…worm? Was the man five? Antonio fought back the urge to laugh at the ridiculousness of it as he faintly wondered why the American would send the message to him of all people. He only mentioned Arthur and Ludwig in his text, so maybe he sent it to the Spaniard on accident. Well, that was his loss; should've checked who he was sending the message to. Antonio clicked the phone off, tucking it back into his pocket and continued his way back home.

Clouds slithered their way across the patches of sky that were visible between the trees' willowy fingers, marking what could possibly turn into a pleasant rain drenched night. While the humidity would increase, it would surely cool off with the droplets falling from the heavens, covering everything in a beautiful display of dew and perhaps some fog. It sounded very pleasant to Antonio's mind and forced a smile upon his depressed lips as he tramped his way down the road, keeping his ears open to the creatures watching him pass by.

He didn't know how many minutes later, but droplets of water eventually fell from the sky, spotting his clothing and hair with its cold water. It sent a chill through his body, yet for some reason… he couldn't see it as only a mere shudder that came with the feeling of icy water down a sweaty back. He didn't know if it had to do with the silly connection he seemed to have with the earth, which his _abuela_ claimed came from his long bloodline of farmers, but he couldn't help but feel as if the planet was trying to warn him of something bad coming. And this wasn't the first time this happened. It happened when his sister married a man, only to find out years later that he was a drug-addict and was abusing her. Thankfully, she was able to escape the horrible man and found another that was much kinder and perfect for Antonio's little sister.

Maybe he was being paranoid, but he couldn't shake off that horrible feeling creeping up his back.

Either way, he couldn't afford to get sick with the possibility of Francis and Gilbert coming over along with any extra meetings that he would have to attend. So he broke into a sprint for his cottage, already spotting the small outdoor light he left on through the bars of trees blocking his way to a straight path towards his home.

_Just a little further and I'll be_- "Ah!" A sudden sharp pain bit at his right ankle, sending his leg into a spasm before it locked up on him, refusing to move and forcing him to tumble towards the soggy earth. Mud clung to his shirt and pants, staining his skin an even darker color of tan and collecting in his hair. The sky laughed at him in the form of thunder, spitting at him with the rain tumbling from the heavens as it snapped its fingers of lightning, mocking the Spaniard. He was covered in so much gunk, and the sky rumbled again, sending whatever was coiled against his ankle into a frenzy, thrashing and squirming around over the mouth of his shoe.

Antonio flipped over to his back, not caring anymore that one of his best shirts _and_ dress pants had been ruined by the mud, entirely brought on by that _thing_ that was fucking with his leg, and it irradiated him more than bush-brows saying that a common English tramp was better than any Spaniard. With furrowed brows, he ripped off his shoe and then his sock. At first he saw nothing around his ankle, of course the darkness nor the rain helped, but through the droplets of rain splattering on the muddy ground, something moved. No... Something _wiggled_ closer to the Spaniard, much like a tiny snake in water. It was small and thin, whatever it was, perhaps a worm or even a thick cotton string that was moving due to Antonio's over imaginative mind, and he could've easily passed it off as that, if it wasn't for another loud boom from the skies above. The _thing_ squirmed in the muck, seemingly making a fretful…well, _dash_ to Antonio's heel, feeling somewhat slimy from the mud that it trailed onto his flesh as it slithered up onto the arch of his foot.

It coiled up on his skin, educing a small frown on Antonio's lips. Well this was strange. It was as if the thunder _frightened_ the little…_worm-snake_ creature, and it was seeking Antonio for protection. Something about it, as strange as it sounded, tugged at his heart and although it annoyed him just about the entire drive home, he couldn't help but to feel bad for the tiny thing; it had to be afraid of anything that made loud noises. Call it his overly kind heart, or his love for animals, no matter what they were, he felt the need to take care of the creature, at least until it stopped raining. It didn't seem to want to be in the downpour, with how it twitched every time water was splashed on it.

God, he had to be going crazy.

Antonio unbuttoned one of his breast pockets before reaching down to the creature, offering it two of his fingers to see if it would curl around them, and, much to his delight, it lifted what he assumed was its head, slithering its way up into his palm. He squinted, still finding it much too dark to see any clear details of the tiny thing. What a shame; off into his pocket it went, squirming around a bit until Antonio tenderly cooed to it. Heh. Here he thought Alfred was childish for having a pet worm and there he was, taking one home because it didn't want to be in the storm. Well, as long as no one found out, everything would be okay.

After he tugged his shoe and sock back on, Antonio rose to his feet, straightening out his shirt and back as he attempted to rid himself of as much gunk as he could, but it was a futile attempt. His clothes remained stained with brown blotches and it refused to come out of his hair. A shower was called for, but first, he needed to get back home and put the petite creature in a secure location.

He followed what was left of the road leading past his cozy little cottage, thinking of _where_ he could put the worm-thing. An empty jar seemed to be his best bet, but maybe even a sock would do since the little fella seemed content in Antonio's pocket…then again, he didn't want to blindly dig around to catch it, accidently squishing it between his fingers; knowing how he had a bleeding heart for tiny creatures, he'd probably cry all night. Fishing his keys out of his pants pocket, he unlocked the door, prying it open with a soft whine under the drone of the ever hardening rain.

Antonio went straight into his kitchen once the front door was shut and relocked, flipping the switch to the single bulb in the small room. Light glimmered off of the polished wood of his counter and the metal of his stove, smiling at him as he rummaged through the shelves for any kind of jar that was empty and clean. The thread-like creature twitched in his pocket after every clank he made, eventually forcing the Spaniard to quietly hum to it to calm it down. It was strange… how the worm thing could so easily be comforted, much like a small child, and Antonio wondered just what exactly was tucked away in his pocket. He probably should've just left it outside.

Ah, but then he'd be worrying about it all night. He was just too kind.

Eventually, he found a nicely sized container that was high enough so the little creature wouldn't slip out as he took a shower, after all, he _still_ wanted to get a good look at it before he released it back outside. That overwhelming curiosity would be the death of him. He just knew it. Unscrewing the top, Antonio turned to the kitchen island and placed the jar on its center before he carefully slipped his fingers into his breast pocket. Almost immediately, the worm thing curled around his finger, allowing him to gently lift it from the small compartment of cloth and he held it to his eyes, carefully looking over its appearance. Well… it was still covered in mud so he really couldn't make out any fine details save for the beady black dots that may have served as its eyes… meaning this probably _wasn't_ a worm. Whatever it was, he would have to figure out later; the dirt and filth was starting to harden on his skin, making it very uncomfortable to move. Not to mention, he had a layer of sweat under that said mud.

"Alright, little fella." Antonio cooed to the still unidentified creature, slowly lowering it to the lip of the jar. "You need to go in here until I finish my shower." It apparently had another idea; just as its tail touched the cold glass of the container, it flinched, desperately trying to slither up his arm and away from the jug. "Oh no you don't." Quickly, and quite carefully, he pinched his fingers around its tail, watching it writhe in the air as he gingerly lowered slipped it into the glass chamber. And… to be honest, he couldn't help but to feel a painful jolt through his heart at how the tiny thing seemed to panic when it was at the bottom, frantically trying to get back up only to find that it couldn't climb the sides and escape. "Hey, hey… It'll be alright." The creature paused at his hum, turning its head to face the Spaniard. He offered it a calm smile, brushing his fingers along the cold sides of the glass. "I'll be right back. Nothing will hurt you."

It blinked at him, staring only a moment before coiling its body up in the center of the jar with its head resting atop what Antonio guessed to be his tail, giving the Spaniard the impression that it was telling him to hurry up. Ah… he _had_ to be going crazy. There wasn't any possible way that the tiny creature could be _impatient_. So bizarre… Arthur must've slipped something in his drink… that _had_ to be it.

And when he came back into the room after his shower, clothed in his fresh pajamas that were only wet because of his dripping hair, he saw that the small thing hadn't budged. A smile crossed Antonio's lips. "See." He cooed out, picking up and angling the jar so the worm thing could slither out onto his palm, "It wasn't that long, was it?" Beetle-black eyes stared up at him, blinking before lightly shaking its head, still covered with the now dry dirt. "Let's get you cleaned up~" With one hand, he tore off a paper towel and turned his faucet, allowing some of the parchment to become damp but not too terribly wet.

"Alrighty, then… just be still~" He ran the wet corner of the paper towel down the sides of the creature, quite impressed and intrigued that it didn't move as he gently wiped away the grim, allowing him to see a beautiful sheen of pinkish-red once it was cleaned up. It was nearly translucent on its underbelly, especially on the parts that weren't laying on anything in particular, and, for some odd reason, Antonio swore that it looked to be _overjoyed_ about being clean once more. He threw the towel away, easily making his way back over to the chair in the center of the room.

Now, he could finally take a closer look at all of the tiny details on what seemed to be a miniature snake. So thin… and small. It honestly resembled a threadsnake, but that couldn't be right… he was sure that they didn't live in the united states, especially in Virginia. So where did he pick this little guy up? And, when he took a closer look, he couldn't see any scales down its hide. While it looked to be slimy, when he ran his finger across its flesh, it felt like _warm_ _velvet_, not smooth snakeskin that was chilly to the touch. Strange. So very strange. It couldn't be that worm that Alfred lost either… it wasn't the same colour, length nor did the worm in the picture have eyes.

"Just what are you, little guy?" He whispered to the creature, smiling as it curled around his finger and nestled its tiny head on his nail. Maybe... he would keep this adorable snake-like thing; it seemed to like the Spaniard and every roll of thunder that shook the home, it would clinch around his digit as if it truly wanted him to protect it. Not to mention he was so damn curious about where it came from and what it was. It seemed harmless, so it wouldn't hurt anything if he watched over it, right?

"Hmm. So what should I call you, Mr. Um... worm-snake?" The tiny creature turned its head to face the Spanish man, blinking at him before slithering down into his palm, keeping its head raised up towards the ceiling. Ah~ it was just so cute, whatever the hell it was. He couldn't help but to gingerly scratch at what could be called its chin, sweetly cooing to it. "_Tomate. _That's it, and oh you're just so cute~" The creature twitched, and the next thing Antonio knew was that it had sunk its fangs into his finger, biting down on the digit as hard as it could. But... threadsnakes didn't have mouths that could open that wide... oh...everything was getting fuzzy. Why was the room swirling?

Antonio slid out of his chair, collapsing on the floor as a slimy chill ran over his body, biting at his flesh with painful tingles and a sudden cold sweat. He couldn't move, and his breath became laboured as they forced themselves out of his lips. Black and white peppered his sight, building up behind his eyes as a throbbing pain that echoed in his ears, draining out the low droning of rain pattering against the ceiling. And the last thing that passed by his blurred vision was the snake creature slithering by, pausing only to send a final glance at the Spaniard before his mind went blank.

Oh how his head pulsated when he regained consciousness in the morning, nearly blinded by the sunlight seeping in through his curtains. Antonio sat up as soon as he had the strength, rubbing at the back of his sore scalp as he stared down at the finger that had been bitten the night before. Sure, at first he thought it was a dream, but when he saw the two tiny punctures on his finger, lightly swollen and red, he knew it wasn't. So what happened to Mr. Tomate? He wasn't crushed by the fall, otherwise Antonio would see its remains smeared on the floor and somewhere on his body. It must've slithered off somewhere during the night... hopefully not too far though.

Antonio managed to stand on his own after a few minutes, but chose to remain still for a few more. Why did Mr. Tomate bite him? Did it really understand that he had called it cute and didn't like it? No, that couldn't be. It was just a _worm-thing_. There wasn't any possible way that it could understand everything that the Spaniard said. Maybe it was scared... yes... that had to be it. Animals attack when they are scared, right?

But standing around didn't find Mr. Tomate any faster.

Antonio hobbled his way over into the living room, spotting nothing different at first... that is, until the sound of raspy breaths met his ear. Someone was in his home, and they weren't doing a very good job at hiding their presence. He immediately followed the noise, slowly making his way across the room. It seemed to be originating from behind his couch, and inch by inch, it grew loud- wait... was that a foot? A-And a bare leg? Antonio moved closer to the person and his heart clinched at the sight before him, once he got a clear view that is.

It was a man... slightly curled up into a ball with his mouth wide open, allowing his harsh breaths to flow freely from his shell-pink lips. Thin brows furrowed over clinched eyes on that handsome face, and Antonio couldn't stop his eyes from trailing down his tanned skin, following the angled curves of what could be called a runner's body. He felt horrible for ogling at this strange man, even more so when he realized that he greatly resembled Feliciano... all the way from the soft cheekbones resting high on his face down to the wayward curl sticking out from his dark chocolate hair, which was matted down with some sort of liquid, much like what surrounded his naked body. He was just a bit... well, _masculine_ compared to the sweet-hearted brunet.

Oh... oh what should he do? The man obviously looked sick, with the way he was wheezing through crackling breaths and the sharp twitches that jerked his form, but he was also invading Antonio's home. Yet... the door was shut and unharmed, still locked too. He should call for help... yes, that's right... but his cell didn't have service in his cottage, and the man was blocking him from the only house phone he had. He would have to wake the man up then. Maybe he could even see if he was okay.

Yet, as he crouched down to tap at the man's foot, those once closed eyes snapped open, instantly locking onto the Spaniard and before he could react, Antonio was pinned down by the strange man. Harsh, almost insect-like clicks vibrated in his throat, much like someone smacking metal spoons against a wooden surface in a room that had an echo. The man dug his nails into Antonio's shoulders, bearing his teeth under scowling amber eyes. An ooze dripped off of his body, splattering on the Spaniard's face if it managed to drop off like water, otherwise, it remained connected between the two as a clear line catching the rays of sunlight like small droplets on a spiderweb. It smelled...like blood and sweat.

He couldn't move... something paralyzed him under the man's weight, whether it be his appearance resembling that of a certain Italian or those eyes of such a strange yet beautiful hue, he didn't know. All he could do was to open his mouth and allow his breath to leave his body in that manner. The intruder's head twitched uncontrollably, as if only that body part was having a violent seizure, though his fingers continuously gripped and loosened on Antonio's shoulders as if they were playing a strange song on a piano.

The man suddenly shifted his grip from Antonio's shoulders to his jaw, forcing it to open as far as it could possibly stretch without popping it out of socket, and he _still_ couldn't do anything about it. Why... he had no possible answer. _Something_ was forcing him it remain under the brunet, even as he lowered his head down, gently pressing an open mouth against the Spaniard's. He should be moving... not letting this man do whatever he wanted to with his body, struggling as the man slightly turned his head to the side and _breathed_ into his mouth. It was vile; nauseatingly sweet and bitter, mixed with something he could only describe as rotting fruit, easily forcing bile to bubble dangerously in his throat.

And then... something touched his teeth. It was painfully hot, whatever it was...slimy... and much, _much_ too big to be the intruder's tongue. Blood and rot, it was all that he could taste as the foreign object slithered into his mouth, squirming and choking the poor Spaniard as it made its way down to the back of his throat. He was forced to swallow it, easily feeling it squirm down his esophagus and into his stomach, twitching uncontrollably to the point where it was painful.

What was this... this _thing_ holding him down? It wasn't a man... no... no human could produce whatever the hell was now writhing in his stomach, and god... as he pulled away... slime still connected their mouths in thick silver strings and the taste of death lingered on his lips and tongue, matching the awful pain stabbing at his gut and spine.

And... as his strength finally returned to him, he threw the intruder off of his body and made a mad dash to the nearest toilet. That thing, oh it needed to be _out_ of his system, yet, as he stuck his fingers down his throat and vomited out a disgusting mixture of green bile and slime, he saw _nothing_ else in the porcelain's water except more repulsive fluid. He stared in disbelief, not bothering to wipe off his mouth as he slipped down to his rear, pressing most of his weight against the side of his tub. It... It had already latched onto the inside of his stomach.

And there wasn't a damn thing he could do about it.

* * *

><p><strong>I plan on rotating updates on this story between this and Whiskers, so expect an update on this every other week. I really don't expect this to get much attention, but hey, I write for my own enjoyment rather than bend to the will of a Fandom.<strong>

**And if you're curious to know what the worm thing looked like, just go to google and type in threadsnake. It will be one of the red/pink ones. I find them to be adorable.  
><strong>

**Anyway, Reviews are much loved and they always brighten my day.**

**Till next time, **

**Self-Titled Demo  
><strong>


	2. Till it swallows me whole

**I know I said last time that it would be Whiskers that would be updated, but I decided to go ahead and post this chapter because I realized that I would have to completely re-write the plot** **for this story for it to actually be considered a horror fic. That, and at the end of this, an idea popped into my head and it was a hell of a lot better than what I originally had planned. That saying, there _will_ be two updates of Whiskers before the next chapter of this is posted, and since I don't have any classes until January, ****there **_**may**_** be more than one update a week for the weeks that I have internet access. ****Sorry for the inconvenience.**

**And I realize that some of the characters may come off as OOC, but** **attempted to get them as close as possible concerning the circumstances.**

**Everything has a reason.  
><strong>

* * *

><p>Panic burned under the Spaniard's skin and he ached under a cold sweat sticking his clothes to his body. What would... <em>could<em> he do? He was sure he didn't own any medicine that would kill the parasite without bringing harm to himself and that _thing_ sprawled out in his den blocked him from his only way to get help in a reasonable amount of time. And there was no telling what he would do to the Iberian if he got too close again. Force more of those parasites down his throat? Eat him..._kill _him? He couldn't take the chances, but he couldn't afford waiting for the _thing_ in his stomach to grow and potentially kill him. Antonio scrambled back onto his feet, carefully creeping to the door of his bathroom and made a silent prayer that the _monster_ wasn't in the hallway.

He peered through the frame, down towards the din_. Clear... good._ With his feet swift and as quietly as they could possibly be, Antonio leaped across the hall, throwing himself into the side of his bed as he frantically and blindly fumbled his hand around under the frame for a small wooden box. Even more panic stabbed at his heart when he couldn't find it at first, but the moment his fingers brushed against the smooth surface of his objective, a cool wave of relief washed over his body.

That humanoid monster...whatever it was, there wasn't any possible way it could survive a bullet to the head. _Nothing _could survive without a functioning brain.

With the cool weight of the weapon comfortably in his hand, he snapped off the safety and aimed it at the door, keeping his brows furrowed and eyes alert as he made his way to the hallway. It was still clear and seemed to stretch out to impossible lengths with each cautious step that padded against the icy flooring of his home, deftly echoing in the spine-tingling silence meeting his ears. Blood thundered through his veins, screaming for him to shoot the man the moment his crosshairs ghosted over that monster's face.

Antonio kept his stance ready, keeping his body turned slightly to the side and the barrel of the gun trained on the floor. That _thing_ wouldn't jump him again, _never_ again. Grating breaths once more scratched though his ears, underlain by those guttural clicks the beast was able to produce and then its toes slipped into his sight. Calves soon stretched from the feet, sloping up into smooth thighs and bare hips, though it was only once side since the monster was laying on his side. Ribs just _barely_ protruded from the tanned flesh, covered by an arm limply thrown across a lightly muscled chest and then... that _face_ came back into his view, haphazardly pressed against its other arm, appearing as if it was simply in a slumber, that is, if those piercing olive eyes weren't gazing at Antonio through half-massed lids.

God... if he didn't know that the thing wasn't human, he'd call it beautiful. But it was a _monster_; a _demon_ that infected him with some sort of parasite that would surely kill him. A concoction of rage and dread furrowed his brows and he rose the barrel so it was in line with the beast's skull, right in the middle of its forehead. It didn't move, either from not knowing that Antonio was about to kill him or from it not fearing the Spaniard. Like it really mattered. Antonio squeezed his finger on the trigger, only a small pull away from blowing the demon's skull to bits...but... he _couldn't_. He just _couldn't_ kill the creature.

Why... Why couldn't he? What the _hell_ was preventing him from destroying the abomination sprawled out in a sticky puddle of slime that reeked of disease?

It lazily gazed up at him, splitting apart its lips and exhaled though the pink flesh, weakly trying to lift its head from its makeshift pillow called his arm. "Don't." Antonio bellowed out to the thing, flinching as the parasite writhed in his stomach and sent shockwaves of discomfort through his intestines. "M-Move and I'll shoot."

Harsh clicks vibrated in its throat and it twitched, hissing callous breath through unstained teeth that tapered off into a whine akin to cicadas on a feverish summer night. The man-creature twitched, scrunching up its face into an expression only describable as pain... and a _lot_ of it, masking over its quivering form that slowly curled itself into a ball. But... It couldn't be in pain, it was impossible and... and _tears_ began to stream down its cheeks, no... _demons_ didn't have emotions. They couldn't cry, they co-

Oh...oh god... _oh god_.

Pain exploded in the Spaniard's stomach, burning at his flesh and stabbing at his nerves as a sharp scream seethed from his lungs, forcing the gun to slip from his fingers and clatter on the floor. He hunched over, desperately clinging to his belly with hands, nails and arms, praying for the piercing heat to stop but it didn't, even when he collapsed beside the monster that caused his pain. A sticky sweat beaded up on his skin, yet it failed to cool off his sweltering body and sooth the headache stabbing its way down his spine. His gut lurched, sending a cold fire up his chest that scorched at his insides before it clinched, swelling in his chest like a scalding metal ball covered with spinning drills.

Whimpers bubbled from his lungs and vile liquid gurgled up from his stomach, swirling against the back of his tongue before more and more oozed out, eventually slithering from his lips and gathering onto the floor. The stench burned his nose along with the bile that managed to seep into his nostrils. And as putrid as it was, it was nothing compared to the swelling mass in his throat that writhed and wiggled as it made its way up, tasting like copper and decay the moment the very tip touched the rear of his mouth. It choked him, refusing to move any further until he expelled it with several jagged coughs.

A slippery tail flopped around in the contents of Antonio's stomach like a fish in a paper thin puddle, squirting out blood from where a _head_ should've been. The crimson plasma swirled into grotesque shapes with every twist the freed half of the parasite made in the bile, slowly mixing into a gooey mess as its movements died down and eventually stopped with one last twitch. What...where the hell was its head? More pain shot through his middle, educing another groan from the Spaniard and realization struck him; it was _still_ inside him; eating away, growing and surely replicating itself as more and more time went on.

What would he do? He didn't have a doubt in his mind that this parasite would kill him within the next few days, but... if he did kick the bucket, he was taking that bastard who infected him with him.

Antonio craned his neck, grimacing as his cheek slipped around in the puddle of fluids; He would need to shower _again_, but he had other things he needed to deal with at the moment. That creature... it just laid there in the sticky slime, staring at Antonio while producing more of those clicks deep within its gullet and puffed out thin streams of air. Blinking, the demon twitched and moved its hand, reaching out towards the Spaniard who opened his mouth to yell, only for blood and slivers of goo to spew out. He was unbelievably cold, shivering and twitching in the pool of disgusting fluid. This was the end... he was sure he was internally bleeding; that was the only reason he would be coughing up the crimson plasma and that _thing_ was still reaching out to him... probably wanting to infect him with more parasites.

Those disgusting, svelte fingers close enough to his face that it tingled, awaiting what pain the abomination would inflect upon him. There wasn't anything he could do; all of his strength was gone, torn from him by that slithering parasite eating away at his intestines and eventually his heart. But...but that didn't mean he had to die without a fight. Nails brushed his flesh, trailing down across Antonio's nose before coming to a stop on his cheeks. The Spaniard growled through the film flapping in his throat, furrowing his brows and sneering at the beast that dared to touch him, feeling warmth return to his broken body like worms slithering in water.

Antonio snatched his face away from the beast's touch, rolling away from the thing, making to snatch up the gun on his way back up. Instantly, the crosshairs were aimed at the demon's head, unwavering as the Iberian's voice boomed out orders, "Get up." Olive orbs stared up at him, but the creature didn't make a move. "Get up, NOW!" Antonio's finger tightened on the trigger, watching for any type of strange movement to come from the monster unhurriedly dragging its hands across the stained floor. It twisted its torso, tucking fingers under its naked chest as its biceps clinched, trying to lift its body off of the ground.

Watching with a vigilant glare, Antonio kept the weapon pointed at the quivering monster; it pushed itself off of the wooden floor, managing to slip its foot under the lower half of its body on the way up, further lifting higher into the air. For a moment, it stood there, shaking and swaying to the side before it leaned against Antonio's leather couch for support, gasping and huffing for its breath. "Don't move." The Spaniard growled out, approaching the beast so he could reach the phone, but he picked it up only to find that there wasn't a dial tone. Damn... the power must've gone out overnight, meaning he was stuck with this beast until it came back on. He glared back down at the monster, slight curiosity bubbling under the fear misting over his mind.

Ever since he returned, it didn't try to jump Antonio. Not once. "Who... _What_ are you?"

The creature stared at him for a moment, eventually losing its grip on Antonio's furniture and collapsing on the floor once more, unfortunately landing in the mixture of vomit and slime. It grimaced as three low clicks vibrated in its throat through its harsh breaths, and with every crack the beast's vocals chords flicked out, a single syllable formed in the Spaniard's mind.

_Lo..._

_Vi..._

_No..._

Antonio frowned in puzzlement. That couldn't be right. His head had to be playing tricks on him; there wasn't any possible way that he understood what the creature was saying. "You're... _Lovino_?" Why did that sound slightly familiar?

Several high-pitched clicks vibrated in its throat and it tried to stand on its feet once more, only to fall right back down. Could... could it not stand up?

He was stuck with this monster... this _Lovino _until the power came back on... then... well, he couldn't just let it be incrusted in vomit and slime all day. That was insanitary for both that disgusting creature _and _for Antonio, not to mention it reeked and he wanted the vile stench out of his home. But, if it couldn't stand up on its own, then he'd have to...

A groan left Antonio's lips at the horrid thought that drifted into his mind. Ugh, he didn't want to touch the creature unless he had to, but Lovino needed a _full-body_ bath, for the muck was covering its skin and matting its cinnamon hair to its face. With the way that Lovino was shivering, as much as Antonio didn't want any of his personal garments on the demon's flesh, it needed clothing... and if he called the police and they found a dead body of something that _looked_ like a human in his home, he would be in all sorts of trouble.

_Why_ did America hate him so?

Antonio carefully inched his way over to Lovino, keeping the gun trained on his forehead. "Listen to me, and listen well." He grumbled to the man-thing, reaching down with his spare hand. "I'm going to take you to the washroom. Try _anything_ and I'll shoot." Lovino weakly grasped his hand, shooting cold tingles down Antonio's arm when its scalding fingers wrapped around his skin. With one tug, Lovino was up on its feet but instantly swayed dangerously to the side, forcing Antonio to circle his arm around its waist to keep it from falling back down into the muck.

It... Lovino was so warm, despite the cool slime that still clung to its skin and seeped through Antonio's shirt. Dammit, he shouldn't be thinking about things like that; he needed to get this demon into a bath and then back somewhere he could easily watch it. "Alright..." Antonio began, trying to press Lovino forward, who merely stumbled before pressing most of its weight against the Spaniard's side. "You _can_ walk, can't you?"

Clicks vibrated in its throat, and Antonio could faintly see a frown in Lovino's lips through the corner of his eyes. Antonio groaned. Just great; he'd have to carry the monster into the washroom, giving the beast an opportunity to harm him once more. So, with another groan, the brunet tenderly tucked the weapon behind his waistband before swiftly dipping down to latch his arm behind Lovino's knees. The chocolate headed creature gasped at the sudden absence of floor, its voice angrily clattering at the Spaniard as he started forward, careful to sidestep the sordid puddle and parasite carcass. Antonio kept his eye on the creature on his way, yet the only thing he could see that even resembled aggression was the absolutely furious scowl that Lovino shot at him under the faint red painted on its cheeks. Once again, his mind had to be playing tricks on him; monsters didn't get _embarrassed_.

Lovino's grip tightened around Antonio's neck the moment they reached the washroom, as if it was anticipating what was going to happen for worse, rather than better. He gently placed the creature on the off-white tiles, allowing its back to rest against the wall before quickly stepping over to the tub and turning on the water.

Lovino stared at him as he crossed the room for a towel, rag and soap, curling up into a ball once Antonio shot a glare at him before returning to preparing the bath...for the monster. He was surely going insane. Yet, he was still surprised that Lovino didn't move at all since Antonio placed it there, choosing to silently watch him save for the few clicks that echoed in its throat. Surely, by now, it would've attacked him again.

The water was shut off with a simple turn of the faucet, a few beads dripping down from the shiny metal into the tub, forming ripples that disfigured Antonio's reflection. He _still_ looked like he did the night before; the same darkly tanned, curly haired, green eyed Spaniard that could easily capture the hearts of beautiful women. Nothing seemed out of place...on the outside. Pain still fingered through his stomach every minute or so, constantly reminding him of the _thing_ in his body. And... of the thing that he had to lift into the tub. Lovino's eyes were shut when Antonio twisted around, seemingly dozing off against the wall and even tilting to the side before correcting its stature. Well, maybe this would make things easier. If it was asleep, it certainly wouldn't struggle nor would it attack him.

Lovino failed to stir when Antonio approached him, though its legs did shift around so the Spaniard was able to clearly see that the monster was... well... _male_, at least on the outside.

He adverted his eyes from the creature's lower regions, gingerly hooking his fingers under Lovino's knees and under _his_ arms to lift the man-thing into the air, tightening his grip when he stirred. Olive eyes fluttered open, lazily blinking up at the Spaniard as if he was trying to determine where he was until he glanced down at the tub Antonio was holding him over.

A shrill screech roared in Antonio's ears and nails dug into his skin as Lovino screamed, desperately trying to escape from the Spaniard's grasp, using every muscle he could to throw the Iberian off balance. He succeeded, forcing Antonio to drop him into the water. Oh...oh the _horrifying_ shriek that Lovino forced out of his lungs the moment he hit the liquid, flailing around and lashing out in an attempt to escape the milky coloured tub.

He screamed... and screamed, as if he was _terrified_ of the liquid, and Antonio had no idea what to do. Lovino clawed at his arms, pulling him down while throwing water in every direction, soaking both the Spaniard and the floor. Blood oozed down his skin, swirling into the fluid and eventually evenly mixing once Lovino's writhing stirred it, failing to catch a good footing in the slippery tub. Frantic clicks jittered behind his metallic screeches and they ripped at Antonio's heart.

Lovino... he was scared... but why? Why was he so terrified of sitting in a basin of water?

Antonio gripped Lovino's shoulders, trying to hold him down against every thrash and every clawing that was aimed towards him. "H-Hey! Calm down!" He yelled at the flailing monster, using just about all of his strength to keep him in the tub, "It's just _water_! I-It won't hurt you!" His words didn't seem to calm the brunet's panic; he still tried to climb up Antonio's arm using his sharpened nails, painfully digging into his skin as each clinch failed to drag him any higher.

This was becoming too much of a hassle; Antonio grabbed Lovino's cheeks, forcing the creature to look him in the eyes, cringing at the face that glared back at him. Beetle black orbs with crimson slits and streaming tears stared back at him, impossibly wide and fearful compared to how calm they were only minutes before. Fangs extended from the corners of his lips like tiny mandibles, producing higher pitched clicks when they tapped against his human-like teeth and captured pockets of air that hissed through his mouth. Once again, his head twitched and trembled between the Spaniard's hands.

Fear bubbled up in Antonio's gut at the sight...so, this is what the monster really looked like, or... was it only a mere taste of its true form? Yet, something deep within him forced to keep gazing at Lovino's face, watching as black condensed into olive once more and those mandibles retracted to the back of his lower jaw. He blinked up at the Spaniard, slightly loosening his grip. "Look," Antonio gently spoke to the creature, taking once of Lovino's hands and dipping it in the water, swirling it back and forth, "It's harmless, see?" Lovino glanced down at the liquid, releasing his grip on Antonio's arm to run his fingers across the top of the clear fluid. "Just water, nothing more."

Clicks juddered in Lovino's throat and a faint smile formed on his lips, much like he was _relieved_ that the warm liquid was completely harmless. He relaxed in the water, allowing his body to slip further down so only his head and the tops of his knees were exposed to the air, leaving Antonio slightly _curious _as to why he was originally frightful. Did something happen to make him so afraid or was it that the creature didn't understand what water was? Well, he seemed content now so there wasn't a point in wasting time. Antonio grabbed the rag off of the nearby counter along with the soap, offering it to Lovino. "I'm not cleaning you."

He glared up at the Spaniard and then down at the items in his hand, snapping his vocal chords before taking what Antonio presented him. Over and over he turned them in his hands, carefully looking them over until he noticed where the wet patch of cloth produced suds when rubbed against the milky coloured bar, and how the slime was clean away from his fingers. Lovino stared for a moment before dunking the rag in the water and lathering soap all over it. Puzzlement tumbled over and over in Antonio's mind as he stared down at Lovino running the cloth over his skin, washing off the grime and sludge staining his flesh. It was like a child learning how to use basic objects and it intrigued Antonio more than anything else, so much that he didn't realize he was staring until the creature noticed his lingering eyes and angrily clattered at him, using his free hand to push the brunet away.

So very... _interesting_. Never before had Antonio heard of a creature that seemed to be modest about bathing, even during his years in college taking class after class in biology, only to change to a foreign affairs major. More and more curiosity began to lace its fingers around his mind, slowly imprisoning the ever dying suspicion and fear facilitating his actions.

But that trepidation was still there underneath the mesh of less than desirable feelings.

"I'm not letting you out of my sight." Antonio blandly stated, somehow growing entertained at sheer amount of red that rose to Lovino's cheeks and the utterly _embarrassed_ gleam in his eyes. He produced several angry clicks as he glared at the brunet, dunking the rag in the water before wringing some of the moisture back out and scrubbing the off the slime caked on his skin. Much to Antonio's amusement, those piercing amber eyes never left his face, even as the creature shifted his legs in an attempt to hide his lower bits from the Spaniard's observant gaze, even though Antonio kept his stare level with Lovino's, or his hands.

Wipe by wipe, the ooze began to mix with the water, turning it an odd cream colour. It took Lovino a while to completely clean his skin, leaving only his hair matted down with gunk but by then, the water was slightly cold and Lovino was once again shivering. He glared up at the Spaniard, clicking his vocal chords in displeasure. Antonio considered telling the creature to get over it and to continue bathing in the cold water, but... once he thought about it, if he made Lovino somewhat happy, then he would be less inclined to attack the Spaniard, right? It made perfect sense, at least in his mind, as strange as it was. Then again... his current actions really didn't make a lot of sense compared to what a normal person would be doing in his situation; _no one _in their right mind would be giving something that infected them with a parasite a damn bath, but he still didn't want to have another worm shoved down his throat.

Antonio reached across Lovino and down the tub, careful to not touch the creature's leg while he held the gun in his other hand, keeping his finger ready for any strange movements from the other male. The plug came out with a small pop, steadily draining the water out of the tub, yet... before the liquid's top brushed against Lovino's thighs, something cold was dragged down Antonio's cheek.

It was the rag Lovino was using only moments before, gently rubbing away the grime that Antonio forgot was on his face. He held such a look of disgust, much like that of a mother displeased with the mess her children made, as he tried to clean the Spaniard up with the soapy cloth. And Antonio...well, he could only stare in disbelief when the cloth was pulled away and cleaned in the draining water. Once again, it roughly washed away some of the repulsive mixture off of his tanned flesh, trailing a bit higher until it reached the corner of his eye where it paused, lingering for only a moment before continuing on. Lovino's glare never softened, yet his vocal clicking were _gentler_ than before, almost so that it could be called strange hum from an insect. Just like with his name, a single word formed in Antonio's mind.

_Repayment_.

It startled the Spaniard, how easily the thought materialized and from the absurdity of it. Lovino was doing this for _repayment_? For what?

How absolutely idiotic of the Iberian for allowing such improbable ideas float into his head; the creature was obviously trying to get him to lower his guard so he could attack once more, yet... he was utterly intrigued by its behaviour. Such motherly attention coming from a _male_ creature, especially from towards something that was a different species... something that was somewhat rare for things other than humans.

He shouldn't, oh _god_, he shouldn't be doing this crap, but it was as if something was controlling his body and he was only along for the ride. "Turn around and come to the faucet. We need to get your hair clean." Antonio didn't even know what he was saying. Words just jumped from his lips without any sense of control, no matter how hard he tried to stop them, matching how his body stood up, reaching for the shower head before he squatted back down. Come to think of it... He didn't have full control over his body ever since he _woke up_ that morning, whether it be from his overwhelming sense of curiosity or the parasite in his stomach.

Or maybe it was just that overly kind heart of his.

Lovino didn't move at all as Antonio washed the muck out of his hair, though he did twitch every time the Spaniard's fingers brushed close to the wayward curl that refused to be bound by water and slime, and when he was completely clean, blissful clicks reverberated in his throat, matching how he gleefully ran his nails through his now wet, but silky hair. Antonio could only stare at the smile that parted the creature's lips, faintly wondering if he was only pretending to be so harmless. It _was_ a possibility...but his happiness seemed so _genuine_. Well, he'd go along with it...for now, but the moment that Lovino showed any signs of aggression other than that scowl that seemed to be permanently painted on his face, he'd kill him.

It took a few minutes to drag Lovino out of the tub, with the man-creature constantly slipping on his feet and furiously clattering at him when Antonio finally gave up and lifted him up into his arms. After flipping down the lid, Antonio gently sat Lovino down onto the toilet, wrapping the towel around the brunet's shoulders before leaving the room to grab some old clothing that often was left behind in the cottage; an oversized t-shirt with black grease stains on the hem, a pair of draw-string slacks and as for underwear... he'd just let him have his least favourite pair. After all, he didn't want to see a naked creature in his home all day.

By the time he returned, Lovino was already leaning against the counter next to the toilet, sound asleep with the towel slipping off of his shoulders. Antonio sighed, unsure if he wanted to be grateful that he slept so much or worried. A lot of sleep in the day meant that he would be awake most of the night, at least that was where his logic pointed to, so he didn't bother to wake Lovino up as he gently tugged the shirt onto his body and silently prayed that he wouldn't snap out of his slumber as he slid the boxers and slacks up his legs. Fortunately, he didn't, not even when Antonio picked him back up and moved him to his couch in the living room. All he did was produce a few clicks before snuggling himself closer to the warmth that Antonio apparently radiated and coil himself into a ball when he was placed on the leather settee.

He remained asleep most of the day, giving Antonio ample time to take a quick shower, clean up the mess that the man-creature left behind, and even look for Mr. Tomate for an hour (only to find absolutely nothing). The Spaniard vigilantly watched Lovino as he snoozed on, keeping the gun only a breath away from his fingers in case he attacked the brunet once more, but it proved useless as the day dragged on. With the power out, it became uncomfortably stuffy in his home, forcing him to open most of the windows to let the air flow inside. Yet... despite his efforts, he still ended up lazily slumped down in his chair with sweat beading up on his chest and arms while dripping down his cheeks. The humidity was awful enough to make him want to crawl into a nice cool ditch. How was Lovino not bothered by this? He just continued his little nap with not one drop of sweat on his body, and the most content look plastered on his face. It was strange... Hell, _Lovino_ was strange from those guttural clicks to how he randomly showed up without any signs of a forced break-in. It was like he was in the house when Antonio locked the entryway the night before, but that wasn't logical either due to the absence of marks on his doors and windows. The entire idea baffled him... completely and utterly confused him to the point where his head began to hurt from thinking about it too much. Complicated ideas weren't his forte, so he decided to let it go for now and to try to figure it out when the opportunity presented itself.

Antonio ran his fingers through his tangled locks of sweaty hair, swallowing down the arid ball that had collected in his mouth from the lack of decent liquids as his eyes felt dried out from staring at Lovino for so long. The most movement the man-thing made was a few twitches before shifting around where his back was facing the Spaniard. Bits of his shirt were pulled up, exposing his back to Antonio, who squinted as something lighter than his tanned skin caught his eye, making him wish he brought his glasses with him from Spain. It was something... roughly yellow in colour but faded as if a film of flesh was covering it. Antonio inched forward on his knees, careful to not make any noises as the thing came into clearer view.

It was Lovino's _spine_... grotesquely swollen and protruding from his skin like plates of overlapping armour made of bone that extended from the middle of his shoulders down to space between the top of his hips. Did he really not notice this before, or was it new? Was he really _that_ oblivious to the things around him? He really didn't know... yet it probably wouldn't be the last time he failed to notice something standing out so clearly. Still, he couldn't stop his interest from once more taking control, drawing his finger up to the column of bones and sliding it down them. An uncomfortable chill overtook his nerves at the slightest touch, and his stomach clinched as the parasite inside it writhed. Although it wasn't painful anymore, it still unnerved him to know it was still there. But... it was nothing compared to the absolute terror that washed over him when his eyes trailed up to see that Lovino was staring at him with the most infuriated glare that had graced his face all day.

So wild and furrowed those olives were, instantly turning black once the creature blinked and pulled back his lips from his teeth. Newly extended fangs were exposed along with those mandibles from earlier, and a thin streak stretching from the centre of his bottom teeth and his chin seemed to soften, hinting that his jaw had separated into two pieces along the line. Antonio lost his balance, falling down onto his rump and his entire body began to shake, trying to pull himself away as Lovino twisted around on the couch, tensing his muscles with every inch that he lowered himself. They both leapt at the same time; Antonio winding around for his gun on the small table and Lovino leaping out for the Spaniard. His head cracked against the floor once Lovino landed on him, effetely shaking the table and knocking the gun off of its surface, but it was still out of his reach. He pulled his and the creature's weight, trying to shake him off of his back yet it proved to be useless once Lovino's nails had anchored him to the Spaniard's shoulders. Pain exploded through his stomach and spine and a cold sweat beaded up on his brow. Was this the end? Was Lovino going to kill him for simply touching his _back_? Antonio stretched his arm out as far as it could reach, barely brushing his fingertips against the chill of the black metal before something pierced into his shoulder, right into the hollow of his neck, filling it with a warmth that scuttled up his cheeks, burning them more and more.

He should've killed the monster when he had the chance...blown a fucking hole through its brain and burned its remains in the bottom of a pit, but now it was just too damn late. He felt like he was on fire, scorched by the metal writhing under his flesh. A gasp and met his lips as his sight was blotched out by black and white speckles, each growing larger and larger until his lids were forced over his emerald eyes and his body fell limp.

* * *

><p>"Have you tried his phone?"<p>

Gilbert snorted at Francis' absurd question; of course he tried calling Antonio's home phone, multiple times actually, but he kept getting the answering machine that the man barely managed to set up on his own. Even if the power had been out earlier that day, it was back on _now_, so Antonio would've gotten his message by then. "I know the guy's useless with technology, but damn... he would've answered by now."

Francis hummed in agreement, taking a long sip of his coffee. He swirled the froth lining the top with a spoon once it was back on its coaster, watching it twist and turn with lidded eyes as he leaned back into the chair he was perched on, rolling words over in his mouth. "Perhaps he's still a bit depressed from little Feli's rejection, _oui_?"

"Wouldn't surprise me." It wasn't like this didn't happen before, hell, it happened over dumber things than this. Like when Antonio came home from one meeting to find his entire tomato garden had been eaten by wild animals. God, he cried for hours on end, refusing to answer the phone or door until three days passed, finally opening up to the self-proclaimed Prussian with tears still running down his face and a giant stuffed turtle in his arms. "Let's give him two more days." The white haired man suggested, idly looking around the small cafe tucked into a corner of America's capital city while Francis was staring at a table of young women only a few feet away.

"Then we visit his little cottage and show him what it means to be loved, _non_?" Gilbert grinned at Francis' words, leaning over the small surface separating them.

"_Ja_, and let's not tell him this time. It will be a surprise!"

Francis let out a long chortle, flicking a stray hair away from his lightly bearded chin. "Those always make him feel the _best_~"

A small, light-hearted silence overtook the two. It was a bit melancholy without Antonio to brighten the dreary day the two were having, but they had important business to attend to after the previous day's meeting and didn't have time to explain the situation to the Spaniard. It was a shame... and they actually wanted to take Toni to a few strip-joints after their sudden meetings, but he had already left for that tiny building he called a temporary home.

That green-eyed bastard probably would've waited if it wasn't for Feli rejecting him, but Gilbert couldn't get mad at the little guy either, despite him being the same age as both Toni and the albino. Poor kid already had enough troubles to deal with since the last of his family was kidnapped five years prior, literally two days after Antonio started attending their meetings and a week before Francis joined. No one, except for Luddy, Feli and himself even knew that the Italian had gone missing. They never even called the police since they were so afraid the cops would take Feli into custody because of his ties to the mafia, and no one else seemed to care that the guy was gone. He really wasn't much of a talker, and when he did, it was always a storm of curses.

Even then, such a childish spit-fire that unspeakable Italian man was, absolutely perfect for the dependence that the Spaniard seemed to crave... it was just a shame that Antonio had the hots for his younger brother. Yet, Gilbert doubted the forgetful brunet even remembered the Italian, after all, they only greeted each other before going off to whatever they do after meetings. Bah, what was he thinking?

The elder Vargas brother was as straight as a fucking metal rod; he'd never fall for such an airheaded Spaniard, even if he _was _still around.

* * *

><p><strong>Please, if there is anything <em>specific<em> that confuses you, _tell me_ and I will try my best to help you out. I know it's confusing, but everything will be explained.**

**And let it be assumed that Francis never met Feliciano's brother.  
><strong>

**Much love, **

**~Self-Titled Demo  
><strong>


	3. My fingers claw your skin

**Only half of this has currently been edited by my friend, so if you come back to read it later, there may be _small_ changes to sentences. No major change to the plot of the chapter though.**

**I realize that some of the characters may come off as OOC, but** **attempted to get them as close as possible concerning the circumstances.**

**Everything has a reason.**

* * *

><p>Antonio didn't know what woke him up first, whether it was the deafening drone of rain pattering on his roof or the roar of thunder... it could've easily been either. His back, neck and head ached as if he was punched by a drunken Gilbert multiple times and then tossed into a wall, not to mention his eyes throbbed with enough pain to make them tear up and clump his lashes together. A groan forced itself from his lips, spilling onto the floor in the form of hot breaths. What the hell happened? Antonio pried his eyes open though the only light that reached his eyes was from the flashing red dot from his answering machine behind the couch and the glowing bulb over his kitchen. So the power was back on? Well, that was good... he guessed. But why was he on the floor beside his lamp that used to be on the end table? The last thing he remembered...<em>the last thing<em>...

_Pain_; a burning in his neck that eventually slithered down, scorching everything in its path before coiling up in his stomach like a frightened snake, poised and ready to strike. Light throbs flicked the nerves in his gut, some soft, some like a needle-prick but they tingled as a frigid jolt through the clammy film over his skin that left the man wanting nothing more than a cold bath with an entire bottle's worth of soap. It was still unbearably hot, despite the rain pouring down onto his roof, accompanying the wind howling through his windows. Antonio shakily forced himself up onto his elbows, groaning at the aches popping down his spine and along his shoulders, extending down to his fingers. They twitched, clinching nails down into his palms and refusing to unlock no matter how hard he tried to force them out, allowing blood to leak from the halfmoons cut into his flesh. His hands wouldn't listen to his commands nor the aching gasps sputtering out of his lips. He threw his weight forward, sitting up and clutching his disobeying appendages into his chest, trying to smother the pain out with the heat radiating from his skin.

What the hell was happening? Why wouldn't his fingers comply with his wishes and stop trying to destroy his palms? This...this wasn't natural, whatever it was. It couldn't be. Nor could the pain lurching in his stomach be from anything that was...inside...him...

The _parasite_... that fucking _parasite_ from what _had_ to be earlier that day was still inside his body, feeding off of him and using his intestines as a breeding ground. The source of his fingers unwilling to listen had to be the slithering creature; Antonio knew of far too many parasites that alter the behaviour of their host to dismiss it of a possible cause, but the only thing that he would consider more dangerous than the bloodsucker itself was what _forced_ it down his throat.

And Antonio had no idea where the hell that monster was.

He was vulnerable against the beast, sitting on the floor with his hands tightly pressed to his bare chest and his eyes wildly leaping from shadow to shadow in search for the abomination or any movement for that matter, but only the flickering of lightning met his sight. This wasn't good, oh _hell_, it wasn't good. Who knew what that monster would do to him next, not to mention that he probably was already trying to drain him of his blood with that bite that knocked him out earlier. He probably had some paralyzing toxin in those fangs as well, meaning he only had to capture Antonio and gnaw his skin to leave the Spaniard even more defenceless. There was a blast of thunder that shook the house and all of the glass inside it, rumbling as waves through Antonio's chest before settling in his feet. He needed to get out, to _escape_ from what could very well become a prison instead of a mere business home, but where could he go? His car was broken down and he was _miles_ away from any city; all that surrounded his home were trees and the occasional deer that would nip at the flowers by the door.

Thunder roared again, accompanied by lightning that flicked shadows across his floors and walls, forcing cold tingles to shimmer down his spine. Lovino had to be somewhere... he knew. If Antonio truly was nothing more than a meal to him, then he wouldn't allow the brunet out of his sight for too long. The Spaniard twisted his neck to allow his eyes to scan the half-wall separating the living area from the kitchen, searching for a head or even a body, but it was a wasted movement. Only his cabinets and fridge met his sight. If Lovino wasn't _there,_ then... then... he could _only_ be...

Crackles and pops emitted by an insect-like voice echoed into the dark room and Antonio's body froze over with fear. Slowly and as carefully as he could bear with how hard his muscles were quivering, he forced his eyes over to the source of the noise, instantly spotting two glowing crimson slits hovering over the back of his couch. Lightning flashed into his home, illuminating the creature's lissom body that was perched on the rear of the furniture like a cat on a wooden fence. Those eyes never left Antonio, glaring at him with their lids stretched unbelievably wide as if they were trying to drink in every detail possible in the dark lighting. More of those clicks vibrated from the monster as it slinked down the couch, impossibly feline-like with his slinking movements, even as his fingers touched the floor, gracefully smoothing out so his palms were flat against the rug. It could've been from the shape of his lithe body or his piercing eyes giving him that aura, but Antonio didn't give it much thought, especially when Lovino literally _crawled_ on top of the Spaniard.

More shuddering gasps fluttered from Antonio's lips as Lovino settled in his lap, despite how he tried to back away from the creature using only the heels of his feet. He stared at the human with curious eyes, blinking and tilting his head while that throat of his clicked and vibrated a low hum, eventually turning his gaze to Antonio's clinched digits. It was almost childlike, how cautiously he reached forward and pulled Antonio's hands away from his bare chest, brushing his fingers over his bleaching knuckles. Gently, he pried Antonio's digits from his palm, as if he was unfurling a tiny bird's wing and ran the tips of his nails over the cuts in the Spaniard's flesh.

They stung, just like Antonio expected, but it wasn't nearly as painful as he would've assumed, and his fingers remained under his control this time, allowing him to flex them as he pleased. Yet, when he should've been thankful to Lovino, for whatever the hell he did to make his appendages heed his command, such thoughts didn't dare to enter his mind with the monster so close to him, only growing nearer and nearer each time he shuddered a breath. Lovino furrowed his brows over those glowing slits he called eyes, clicking once more before cupping Antonio's cheeks between his hands. They were so unbearably warm against the brunet's face, gingerly pushing him down until his back was flat against the floor.

What was this? What was this _monster_ doing? Fear and adrenaline surged through his veins, thundering in his ears as the pounding of his heart against his ribs but the creature's weight pressed his body left him helpless to Lovino's will. His hair was pushed back by those sweltering fingers, each running through the chocolate tresses perched on his skull like a comb as his eyes glared down into Antonio's, searching for _something_ that the man couldn't name. It was as if the creature was concerned, judging by the way he used his other hand to carefully expose where he bit Antonio only hours before, allowing the Spaniard's eyes to gaze upon the lamp lying barely an arm's reach away.

That was it!

He needed _that _so he could escape this monster's hold.

While Lovino was preoccupied with looking over every tiny detail on the Spaniard's face with scowling eyes, Antonio allowed his fingers to creep over to the lamp, feeling his heart leap into his throat with every movement the other brunet made. He couldn't be caught...not when he was so close.

Lovino leaned further down, tenderly grazing below the two punctures in Antonio's neck with his lips before bearing his fangs as the Spaniard's fingers brushed against the smooth surface of the lamp's body.

He couldn't wait any longer.

Antonio grabbed the lamp, and with all of the strength that he could muster, he shattered it into the creature's head. Lovino screamed out, releasing Antonio from his weight as he was thrown onto the floor with a loud thud. Scrambling onto his feet, Antonio made a mad dash for the door, slamming against the wood while his fingers frantically unlatched the locks. Screeches and furious clicks met his ears once the doorway was ajar, but he dared not to look back, instead, his feet carried him in a random direction, sprinting as fast as they could carry him.

Help... he needed to find someone to help him. Anyone, it didn't matter.

Rain pelted his face like hail, stabbing his skin and eyes as they slithered across his body, coagulating in his hair and matting it down as a slick sheet on his head. Thunder laughed at his frantic pants and pathetic stumbles against the slippery mud. Antonio ran and ran, sprinting for his life and dodging all the trees that flashed past him as mere blurs illuminated by the sky's snapping fingers. Rocks, twigs and perhaps even trash thrown away by hunters stabbed at his bare feet but he ignored them, even the ones that probably pierced his flesh and left the scent of blood trailing behind him. It didn't matter. _Nothing_ mattered at this very moment, especially not the possible wounds from when he tripped over a rock and slammed his face into the ground.

Escape...

That was the only thing he needed. He picked himself off of the ground, sparing only a brief moment to look back. There was nothing around him... no light, no buildings... only the pattering of rain against fully greened trees and the flashes of lightning from up high.

His body ached in retaliation, mostly due to his inactiveness after he began his silly government job, but it wasn't an entire loss. The years he spent in college running cross-country built up his speed where it was hard for anyone to keep up with him, meaning there was a fairly good chance that Lovino wasn't anywhere near him. Besides, the creature had such a hard time walking that morning that Antonio was a bit sceptical that he even made it out the door. He probably would be safe with taking a small breather before trying to find his way into town; as long as he went west, he would be safe... the only problem would be that he couldn't see the sky with it storming, so waiting for the weather to clear up had to come first.

A tree was picked out for his resting perch, the closest one naturally; Antonio leaned against it, allowing the rain to slither down his skin as he closed his eyes and turned his face towards the skies. He was safe, he was sure... there wasn't any possible way that Lovino could've known where he went even if he was able to walk. Slowly, his breaths returned to him and calmed to a reasonable pace, numbing out the pain burning in his legs. He was safe... thank god, he was _safe_. A smile couldn't help but to break across his lips, knowing full well that he was no longer bound by that nightmare. He was _free_, just like the chuckle pouring from his lungs.

Now, he only needed to warn others of the creature in his home, possibly the police or even the government itself, and then he needed to go to the hospital to see if they could rid him of the parasite eating away at his stomach. If not... maybe he could donate his body to some kind of lab in hopes that they could make serum to kill the creature in case it infects anyone else. Ludwig worked for a lab on top of his government job, didn't he? Maybe he'd accept the Spaniard's offer. Alfred did too, but Antonio knew the German's brother, so he'd have a sure way of talking to the man while with the American, he only had a slim chance. Well, for now, he'd just rest and wait for the storm to blow over. It shouldn't last too much longer anyway, maybe an hour at the most, but he'd be walking again by then.

Antonio sighed through lazily clinched teeth, watching the world through closed lids. Such a nightmare that crossed his path, certainly something that he would normally consider nothing but a made up story or something from a movie, yet... he couldn't help but wish that it happened to someone else.

Another sigh hissed out of his mouth and a few bones popped in his neck as he rotated his shoulders back. So harsh, this wind. It stung at his face with its chilly fingers, biting back the heat from the slumbering sun, yet sweat still managed to cling to his skin. At least it wasn't too hot anymore. He could deal with this, but he couldn't ignore the awful tingling rising up his spine that swirled up and coiled in the base of his skull. A frown contorted his lips and he cracked his eyes open, instantly wishing that he didn't. Cold..._glowing_ crimson slits glared down at the trembling human, unblinking even as rain slithered down Lovino's face, dripping off of his chin and splattering onto Antonio's cheeks. The monster bared his teeth at the Spaniard, growling out more of those terrible clicks as his shifted his nails clutching to the tree. He was like a gigantic venomous spider perched on a wall, just _waiting _for its prey to move so it could strike.

Without a second thought, Antonio scrambled onto his feet and sprinted for his life, ignoring the screeching clicks behind him, but he wasn't able to make it to the next tree before something rammed into his back. He tumbled to the muddy ground with Lovino's sharp nails buried into his shoulders. A gasp hissed through his teeth as his head slammed into a nearby rock and Lovino's weight crushed his lungs, effectively knocking him out.

* * *

><p>A yawning groan escaped Gilbert as he finally reached his temporary home in the outskirts of America's capitol.<p>

Nobody should ever have to work so damn hard without a break or a good German beer. He lived by that rule as a teenager and even now at the wonderful age of twenty-seven; young enough to beat the shit out of a cocky bastard who thought they could take him on, and old enough to command the respect of his peers. It wasn't all that bad, being older than the majority of his friends. At least they were always willing to help him since he would never turn down aid to his pals, no matter how idiotic their plans or his were. Especially Antonio and Francis; they were the greatest friends he could ever ask for and an entire list could be written for the shit that they had done over the years. Of course, they calmed down a bit after a while, with Toni fancying Feli, and Frannie having his eyes set on a certain Englishman whose trousers were a bit too tight.

Gilbert was satisfied with staying single for a little bit longer. He had other things he had to worry about.

Like getting a good night's rest, but something about his little bro's troubled expression the other day had him worried. It wasn't often that Ludwig worried about things other than his Italian sweetheart, and it was honestly making Gilbert concerned about what it was. Therefore, it was time for something he called '_brotherly interception_'.

In other words, sneaking into the burly blond's room when he was out on a drinking party with his friends and taking a peep through his messages and/or laptop. For once, he was glad that Ludwig normally didn't take a phone with him if he planned on drinking a lot, since one time he drunkenly called their mother and proclaimed that he was going to marry the unicorn prince of some land he managed to slur beyond comprehension. While the elder of the brothers thought it was hilarious, as did their mother, the younger didn't.

The moment the platinum-haired Prussian gently slid the door open, silence and a nicely organized room met his eyes. Papers were neatly set into their appropriate folders, each filed alphabetically by subject and stacked by their intended receiver inside his bookshelf by his work desk. Everything was clean; not one speck of dust could be found anywhere and everything was in its proper place, just as their parents taught him. Flipping on the light, Gilbert made his way straight for his Ludwig's desk and settled down in the man's padded chair, sliding the top drawer open on the left side. Inside was his brother's cell. He grabbed it, flipping it open as his fingers clicked the necessary buttons to retrieve his texts.

So he got something from that blond American, huh? And it was around the same time Ludwig's face drew that line that made him look way too old for his age. Might as well open it. In the form of typed words, Alfred rambled about something, a worm... for some reason, and attached was a picture of... a fucking _worm_. God, did Alfred finally lose it? All he ever talked about anymore was that shit that he did for whatever he worked for... a pharmaceutical company or something. He always just went on and _on_ about how they were working on something that could change the world and make it a safer place, or about how well whatever he was dealing with was behaving. Somehow, he managed to catch Ludwig's attention with it too, easily chatting about the subject for hours on end.

With a few clicks, Gilbert forwarded the picture to his email so he could get a better look at the thing; it was simply far too small for the Prussian to clearly make out. How Ludwig was able to see it was amazing with such a small phone.

Gilbert continued to snoop around his brother's room for a short while, making sure to place everything exactly the way it was before leaving the bedchamber. Nothing else caught his attention, so he retreated to his own computer and opened the picture back up, looking over every small detail that he could find, other than the worm itself (apparently named _Proto-Q_) but the company title itself caught his attention: _Eugenics Inc._ That had something to do with creating a superior being, right? Such a strange name for a _pharmaceutical _company, but he didn't make it so hey, to each their own. Maybe they were making drugs that would help solve some deadly disease. Come to think of it... Ludwig had a lot of papers pertaining to this so called drug company. Maybe this would be a good thing to look into.

Secretly of course.

A sly smirk formed on Gilbert's lips, each muscle thoroughly amused at what he was going to do. It had truly been a long time since he had fun and with some of the information Kiku taught him the last time he visited, it should be a breeze to hack into their systems and snoop around. Even if it proved to be a challenge, he would have one hell of a time doing it. He just hoped that it wouldn't be too hard to do. After all, he still needed to visit Antonio to make him feel better. Leaning back into his chair, Gilbert cracked his neck and vaguely wondered how his friend was doing. He hadn't answered any of his calls that day, so he was probably tangled up in his bed sheets crying his eyes out.

Poor Toni... he'd always been the most emotional out of the group when it came to romance, especially his own; never hesitating to shed tears when they watched an overly sappy chick-flic or even _Titanic_ for that matter. At least he was a fucking ball of sunshine almost every moment, save for hopefully only these few days. It pained both Francis and Gilbert to watch the Spaniard so down in the dumps, but it was simply something the man would have to get over himself. Of course they would try to help him... although there was only so much they could do. Still, they would try, even if it came down to trying to find the man a good woman to date.

Antonio would get better. Gilbert could feel it, and he was never wrong.

A yawn forced itself from the blond's mouth, accompanying his drooping eyes in their quest to draw him closer to the bed. He'd start early with his task of hacking into that company's database since he didn't have anything important to do anyway and Ludwig would be out the entire day. He lifted himself from his chair, not bothering to change his clothes before flopping down into his bed, allowing sleep to overtake his body in a matter of minutes.

* * *

><p>Antonio jolted awake at the feeling of his head scraping over a series of rocks and twigs before groaning and trying to access his surroundings. Why was he moving? What was holding onto his leg? Craning his neck, he saw that his ankle had a hand clutching it, dragging him through the forest. He was almost home, easily noted by the trees he constantly passed as he drove to and from town, and from the dull glow of his outside light, but that wasn't even touching the Spaniard's mind. <em>Lovino<em> had tugged him across the stretch of land he had crossed in an attempt to escape his clutches.

He couldn't be killed this easily... he _wouldn't_ allow it to be over, not by that monster's hands!

With one large kick, he ripped his leg from Lovino's claws and scrambled to his feet, making another run for it. Lovino had none of this. He screeched at the Spaniard, lunging for him with his teeth and claws bared before slamming into his back, knocking him off of his feet and onto the ground. Antonio groaned out a yell, screaming at the top of his lungs. So many threats and curses poured from his lips, matching the punches and kicks thrown at Lovino, each more frantic than the last but they did nothing to deter his determination. The creature hissed at him before clicking in that grotesque voice, pushing more and more weight onto Antonio's shoulders.

Lovino managed to flip the man over, straddling his waist in an attempt to hold him down as he struggled with flailing arms that tried to punch him in the face and shoulder. Rain continued to pelt the two, drenching them with water and the mud that splattered up with every kick Antonio made and every grunt rumbling in his throat.

"Let go of me!" His voice echoed under the roar of thunder overhead and he managed to land a punch to Lovino's head, crunching his knuckles against the cut that was already there. Another hiss left those lips and his hands shifted from Antonio's shoulders, fighting to hold down his thrashing arms. Grunts and breaths alike seethed from Antonio's teeth, his eyes burning holes through Lovino's skin from the glare that never left him. "Let go, you _monster_!" The creature flinched at his terrible words, almost as if he was hurt by what he said, but they didn't leave a wound great enough for him to lessen his grip. If anything, he tightened it, pinning the human's fists to either side of his head but he failed to stop moving. Antonio's shoulders continued to shift and push against Lovino's hold while he snarled, grunted and yelled every profane word that he knew in English and Spanish. He threatened Lovino, still trying to use his larger body mass to overpower the creature straddling him as his legs slipped around in the mud, nearly throwing them both over into the muck.

Lovino screeched at him again, literally only centimetres away from his face. His breath washed down Antonio's nostrils, not nearly as rotten as it was that morning but there still was a small tinge of sweetness that slithered its way through the odour of the rain, making his stomach twitch with anxiety. Growling, the monster used Antonio's trapped hands to hold his head still and pressed their foreheads together, never allowing their eyes to leave each others. He was livid, there wasn't any question in that with the furrow in his brows but there was a _sadness_ in his olive orbs that twitched with every loud boom overhead, wistful it could even be called, but there was something else as well... as if the creature was driven by _pure_ instinct.

It would certainly make sense. After all, most creatures killed for their food so why would this monster be any different? Antonio was only a meal to the demon.

He roughly shifted his shoulders under Lovino's grasp, trying to use his elbows to knock the brunet off of him but it was only a failure, including the thrashes to the thing's body with his knees. He couldn't get it off of him, even when Lovino aligned their mouths to form a cross and pressed them together. It was vile, how soft his lips and how warm the streams of his breath seething through his nose were, almost like he truly was human, but they couldn't compare to the two pointed bones slipping under Antonio's lips and his teeth, prying them apart so his mouth was left wide open. Lovino's cheeks slightly puffed out against Antonio's nose and his lips grew unbearably hot... and then... liquid dripped down from the smallest crack of the creature's mouth, landing on the Spaniard's tongue and burning it with its scalding sweetness.

Antonio gagged on the repulsive secretion as more and more flooded into his mouth, minute at first but enough to force his body to lurch and struggle, trying to expel what he could with hacking coughs. It was useless though, what managed to escape fell right back down among the mixture flowing out of Lovino's mouth. He slammed his elbows into the monster's arms and attempted to knee him in the stomach, but the creature held his grasp on the brunet, opening his mouth wider and wider, allowing more of whatever he produced behind his lips to choke the Iberian.

His body screamed for air, squeezing out what was left insides his lungs before forcing his throat to swallow the disgusting substance in several big gulps as tears leaked from his eyes. It burned, oh it _burned_ his entire body with every swish over his tongue. A shiver rolled across his muscles as it made its way down to his stomach, tickling the organ until every last drop of the liquid slithered from Lovino's lips. Thunder roared high above the lofty heads of the trees, flicking rain and light against their emerald fingers, each droplet slipping down the leaves before cascading towards the ground and splattering against the two in the mud. What Antonio assumed to be Lovino's mandibles retracted from the Spaniard's mouth and back to their place in the monster's gums as he pulled away, weakly dragging the bridge of his nose across the brunet's cheek. Quivering breaths fell from his lips, each fluttering against Antonio's flesh once he released the man's arms.

Lovino was nothing more than dead weight now and steadily slipping off of the Spaniard, allowing the man to push himself away with his feet. Drained eyes stared at Antonio, blinking before falling half-mast, calling for the man but he tore his sight away from the crumbled creature. He could finally escape... so why didn't his body move away from the monster? Why didn't his hands pick up the nearest stone and smash it into his skull? It was exasperating... _frightening_ how he couldn't fully control himself anymore, and nothing could ever explain the seeds of thoughts beginning to sprout in his mind.

He should've just ran... as far as he could, but his body froze, twitching under the flickering of the heavens until it moved...

_On its own._

Antonio wanted to leave this heathen in the wild, allowing any feral beast to eat the creature but his body wouldn't allow him to do so. Instead, it turned back to the rain soaked monster, approaching it as whatever Lovino forced him to swallow sloshed around in his stomach, leaving him feeling fuzzily warm, despite the slick sheet of water sticking to his flesh. Lovino twitched, curling into a tight ball as thunder roared overhead.

Antonio tried and tried and then tried some more to halt his steps growing ever closer to the monster lying in the mud, who pried his eyes back open, staring up at the Spaniard but his body failed to heel to his command, just as his fingers did only hours before. His lips curled themselves up, grinning at Lovino. He merely clicked his voice, frowning once Antonio's body bent over and slipped the brunet into his arms. Antonio was merely observing, much like someone put glasses that spouted out first-person movies, forcing him to watch as someone else moved for him. His heart would surely be racing if he had control over his muscles, matching how his breath would be heaving in and out of his mouth as if he just ran a marathon but it remained soft like Lovino's skin, although the tanned flesh was covered in mud, just like Antonio's entire body.

Against his will, his muscles forced him to carry the creature the rest of the distance to his home, easily creaking the opened door ajar before shutting it behind them with the heel of his foot and instantly strolling down the hall. Using his elbow to turn on the light, Lovino was then placed upon the floor, clattering at the Spaniard in annoyance as it ran a bath after gathering a rag and soap.

What the hell was he doing? Why the _hell_ was he running a dammed bath for the monster! This didn't make any sense what so ever, especially when his body reached down to gently coax Lovino to take off his shirt, grinning once the brunet complied with a glare set on his face. "We need to get you cleaned up, Lovi~" Came the voice from the Spaniard's lips, surprising both Antonio and Lovino with the stupid nickname that he spouted out. While the demon seemed to be raising all kinds of hell about the name, Antonio wanted to die from the absurdity of it, especially as he felt a stupid grin spread across his lips. It was like his body was moving without the sense of anger or fear that his mind possessed, acting like he normally would when he felt at his best and was flirting with a cute girl.

But Lovino was not a girl.

Nor was he cute. Not in the least.

It had to wrestle Lovino's pants off, fighting against the creature's thrashes and frantic clicks, humming in amusement at the furious red that speckled his cheeks. "C'mon, Lovi~ You can't stay covered in mud all night!" This was awful, god, so damn terrible and embarrassing and so many other emotions that it made _him_ want to blush as his body effortlessly picked Lovino up. Even with the prettiest _girls_, he wouldn't be _this_ affectionate so quickly nor would he treat what appeared to be a grown man as a child.

It had to be that parasite... it was the only thing that could cause this... this _unresponsive_ body to act the way that it did.

While the creature did squirm around at first, once he was held at the lip of the tub by the larger brunet, he nestled himself closer to the man's chest, warily eyeing the water below. A nose was snuggled into the mud caked tresses of the man-thing, somewhat calming him before Antonio's body lowered him into the tub.

He hated this... not being able to move his muscles on his own accord. Antonio could only watch through his eyes as his body cleaned off a scowling Lovino with red set deep into his cheeks and twitch to his stillness every time there was a rumble from the skies. Once the creature was clean, the Spaniard's outer shell picked him back up, carrying him to the only bedroom in the house and laid him on the mattress before patching up the wound on his face. Then, he scurried off to find him pyjamas, but stopped when Lovino clicked something out. Staring at the creature, it seemingly changed its mind in finding the beast some clothes as if it understood whatever he said. "Are you sure about that?" There was another series of clicks and a scowl shot at the Spanish man. "Okay... Well, I'll be in the shower then in the living room if you need me."

He did just that. In the span of thirty minutes, Antonio's flesh and hair were clean, leaving him in a fairly new pair of pyjama bottoms and sprawled out on the couch, idly strumming the guitar he kept near the settee after he cleaned up the shattered remains of his lamp and the trail of mud on the floor.

A tune fluttered from the strings, something that Antonio heard and remembered from a certain day about five years prior. He never forgot the song, always feeling the melody caress his fingers like the hand of that person he danced with only once before they disappeared. They were astounding, almost as if they were born dancing with the passionate swirls and moves that put the Spaniard to shame. Antonio sighed, continuing on in the tune as more of the memories returned to his head; soft skin and those strikingly beautiful olive eyes... they were the only things of the person that he could remember, and while he was lost in his thoughts, he barely noticed that he was once again in control of his fingers. He paused his song, flexing his digits before gently placing his guitar beside the couch and sitting up. Instantly, his eyes darted towards the hallway as he quickly made his way around to the rear of the settee, glancing back for a moment before frantically picking up the phone lying on the nearby table. Antonio placed it to his ear but only hissed in anger as a dial-tone failed to purr out of the machine. Someone, or _something,_ had cut the line when he was passed out on the floor, leaving him without any way to communicate with the outside world.

Although he could probably just make another run for his life, he was terrified of doing so. There wasn't any doubt in his mind that Lovino would hunt him down again and drag him back, forcing him to swallow more of whatever that sweet tasting liquid was... or he would do something worse to the Spaniard. There were always worse things the monster could do to him while he was still conscious... much, _much_ worse.

Instead, Antonio crept into his kitchen whilst keeping his eyes trained on the pathway to his bedroom, going straight for the knives he kept in the topmost drawer beside the fridge. His cleaver scraped against the other stainless-steel blades, glittering with a golden gleam as the light from the kitchen's bulb bounced off of the sharpened edge. Soon... as much as he didn't want to take a life, the blade would be dripping with crimson. He would end it all...

_Tonight._

Antonio padded his way to his bedroom, hugging the walls with his weapon close to his chest and ready to strike at a moment's notice. That monster wouldn't catch him off guard if he could help it, _never_...

Lighting flashed silhouettes against the mahogany wood panels leading to his destination, sparking chills down his spine once he pressed stepped into the doorway, brows furrowed and fingers tightly clinched around the cleaver's handle. It was now, or never. Raising the blade up so it was poised and ready for attack, Antonio took three long strides to cross the room, hovering over the form loosely tangled in the sheets on his bed. Lovino's breathing was calm, matching the relaxed face that was resting on the Iberian's pillow, although he twitched with the loud boom that shook the tiny home and rattled something off in the corner of the room. A whine purred in the creature's throat as he snuggled his uninjured cheek deeper into the feather stuffed cloth and clutched the thin cover closer to his chest, completely unaware of the Spaniard's plans to end his life. Antonio gently slipped the blade under the demon's throat, ready to press the sharpened edge into his flesh that would paint his sheets red.

Just one slice...

It would be the only thing he needed to escape from his nightmare that was forced upon him in the span of one night... so why couldn't his arms draw the strength to kill the monster that held him captive? Only a cut on an important vein would suffice, but he just could not bring himself to do it. This _thing_ wasn't human... it didn't have a soul nor a heart that would label it worthy of mercy.

Was he just too weak?

Was Antonio not as much of a man like he always thought he was... his will not even strong enough to end the life of a demon?

Howling with frustration, Antonio tossed the cleaver across the room before turning and flopping down on the floor and covering his face with his hands. He was worthless... not minutely worthy of calling himself a man. Yet... fire _still_ kindled in his chest, determined to not allow Lovino to have his way with the Spaniard; Antonio would remain strong until the parasite took his life, even if he had to live with the monster constantly breathing down his neck. Maybe he would be able to ignore the beast, although there would be the challenge of having enough food... then again, he still wouldn't be able to properly nourish his body even if he ate. A gruff sigh parted his lips. Such a hard road was ahead of him it seemed, much more difficult than anything he would ever dream of facing alone.

_Alone..._

He was all alone now, wasn't he? Very few people knew about his home out in the middle of nowhere and he could only assume that Francis and Gilbert would think that he wanted to be alone after what happened with Feliciano... That lovely man had completely left his mind after the events of the day, and he used to be so important to him too. Perhaps... he was nothing but a lustful thought that Antonio's mind grappled onto one day, so easily forgotten after months of chasing after him. He wasn't even distraught over his rejection anymore, now that his body was overrun by feelings of survival and fear. With one push of his arms upon the lip of the mattress, Antonio pulled himself up so he was sitting on the edge of his bed, staring down at the slumbering creature. Lovino looked so harmless... both awake and asleep, and he could even be called attractive to an ignorant fool who didn't know what he truly was. Hell, even the Spaniard didn't know exactly what the brunet was.

Under the darkest shadows touching the creature's flesh, he noticed several specks lined up in a swirling path down Lovino's arms and legs, each faintly glowing with a pulsating pale blue light, fading and expanding in tune with his soft breaths. There were also a few trailing the underside of his cheek bones, leading down to the corners of his lips, forming what could be called a skull-like outline on his face, minus the teeth and eye sockets. Lovino twitched again, slightly curling up and brushing his foot against Antonio's thigh.

A frown contorted his face as his eyes languidly cracked open, sending a cold shock down to the brunet's lungs. Those markings brightened considerably once his olive eyes gazed upon Antonio, fluttering like a tiny heart for only a moment before remaining at their lighter state. Huffing out a breathy clatter, the creature shifted around to bare his back to Antonio, apparently uninterested with the man and more concerned with sleeping. His spine held the same bio-luminescent qualities as the rest of his body, with each tip of the skin-covered bones and swirls along the sides radiating a pallid silvery-blue. While they were slightly frightening, Antonio couldn't help but feel curious as to how the creature developed such properties and what their use was; communication perhaps or merely something to attract their possible prey? It was probable since the man already had other insect-like qualities about him and one couldn't help but to gaze at the enchanting rhythm of the pulsations, easily losing themselves into its hypnotic beats. And when did they appear? He was sure they weren't there when Lovino jumped him earlier.

Antonio didn't even notice that he was staring or that the creature was glaring at him until it was brought to his attention by a few low clicks, each thrown over the brunet's shoulder through slightly parted lips. His glowing speckles' intensity fluttered once more as Antonio remained silent, trying to decide to bolt for the door or stay on the bed. Leaving the room would be the most intellectual choice, but Lovino... well, he didn't seem to be much of a threat when half-asleep. Of course, the same could be said about when he was lying on the ground that morning too, yet, at this very moment, Antonio could just _tell_ that there wasn't any hostility in the creature's scowl. It was like a glare was just what he gave to everything, no matter what it was.

A few more guttural clatters left Lovino's throat, giving the Spaniard the impression that he was telling him to either go to sleep or get the hell out. Where such absurd ideas came from, he didn't know, but he decided not to question it as he rose to his feet and quickly shuffled out of the room, heading straight for his chair that faced the hallway.

His heart raced behind his ribs, pounding against the bones once he sat down. Why... _why_ did he act so docile in the presence of that beast; so damn calm when he should be scared out of his mind, like he was when he was in another room... It didn't make any sense. Hell, nothing made sense anymore. Cold sweat washed over his body, forcing his relatively clean pyjamas to cling to his skin and for the roots of his hair to mat up into curly chunks. This was horrible, much worse than any horror movie that he often watched with his friends. Those, although they still terrified him, he _knew_ they weren't real... _monsters_ weren't real and were nothing more than made up stories to please the masses, but this, god, this was worse than anything he could ever imagine.

While the rain had apparently stopped sometime over the past few minutes but lighting still flashed through the open windows, casting dancing shadows on the floor and furniture that forced a quiet gasp from the Spaniard. He was waiting for it... for that monster to sneak in and spill his blood, but he wouldn't let that happen. He would stay awake all night if he had to, not once allowing his lids to droop over his eyes if it meant his safety.


	4. Tear out all of your tenderness

**This fic is going to have a lot of mood swings, with some being like last chapter and others like this one.**

**The OCC-ness will eventually go away as well, at least I hope, probably sometime in the next two chapters (for Lovino at least). There still may be some, mainly due to the circumstances of the story.  
><strong>

**As I said before, and will continue to say:**

**Everything has a reason.**

* * *

><p>Well this was a disappointment...<p>

It seemed that Francis' boss wanted a meeting with him the day that he and Gilbert were going to pay their _Antoine_ a little visit to cheer him up and the Parisian couldn't help but to sigh as he got off the phone with his superior. It was still very early into the morning, no later than six, so perhaps he could convince his friend to take the trip with him, _if_ the man was even up. Knowing him, he probably was.

Lithe fingers tapped out the numbers to the platinum blond's cell before the phone was brought up to Francis' ear, silently awaiting a curt greeting in either German or English, maybe even a mixture of both. Such strange things always came from the Frenchman's dear friend, always something new rather than the same thing over and over, but he never complained. It was nice for things to stay interesting.

"_Morgen, Franny_."

"Morning to you, Gilbert." Francis smiled at the smothered yawn coming in through his speaker and the soft smacking of lips. Apparently he hasn't been up for too long. "What are your plans for today, _mon cher_?"

Gilbert hummed, apparently scratching at the tiny stubble that probably formed after the lack of shaving for a few days. "_Sorry, pal. I've got some work that came up, so I'm going to be stuck here for today."_

What a shame... "I can't see _Antoine _when we planned so I'm about to head over there now."

"_Eh? Well, you were always better at that kind of stuff than me anyway. I'll just go later this week_."

That was strange... Gilbert would never pass up seeing their dear friend for anything, so whatever he was working on had to really catch his attention; he even passed up important business paperwork that could've gotten him fired in favour of spending an entire day with a flu-infested Spaniard. "Are you sure?"

There was another sigh on the other side of the line, and a few clicks of a keyboard could be heard as well. "_This could be big. I can't let it go._" He must be hacking into another porn website... that was what happened the last time something was _big_ for the self-proclaimed Prussian. Oh well; '_cheering' _Antonio up was easier when Gilbert wasn't there anyway.

"I'll call you later and tell you how it went."

"_Keep the details._"

A chuckle purred in the Frenchman's throat. "Of course, _mon ami._ I'll spare your pretty ears the _horrific_ details of big brother's loving caress~" There was a soft curse whispered in German on the other line, followed by a series of clicks and then another swear, this one a bit louder than the last. Francis felt a smug grin stretch across his lips as his amusement in what sounded to be Gilbert's failures grew. "You having some problems, friend?"

"_Ja...Damn bastards put up a ton of firewalls on this shit. It's a pain in the ass._"

"Am I distracting you?"

"_Nein...nein... there is just so much crap that they have here to try to confuse weak minded people."_

Shame... It would've been nice to have the other blond to accompany him to their dear friend's tiny home, but the man would surely visit him later. Gilbert _always_ checked up on the man one way or another. "I'll leave you to whatever you're working on, Gil. Have fun with it."

"_You know I will. Talk to you later, man._" There was a grin spoken with his words and Francis wished him a good farewell back before clicking the conversation off and closing his phone. He sighed before rising out of his plush chair, stretching out the kinks that knotted his muscles over night as he crossed the room with a few strides. Pulling his long strands of blond hair into tail and tying them up, he checked his appearance in the hotel's mirror. Ah~ How beautiful a human could be, so perfect in the eyes of someone who appreciated the perfection of the mortal body. Of course, he knew very well that he wasn't the most gorgeous man in the world, but he wasn't the ugliest either... then again, he saw everyone as beautiful in their own way, some simply having better qualities than others. But right now wasn't the time for admiring himself in a dusty mirror that was due for a good cleaning. His precious _Antoine_ was in desperate need of company and the proper love that he deserved.

Such a kind hearted man shouldn't ever have to face the woes of rejection alone.

So, with a quick slide of his fingers down a jaw bristling with a stubble, Francis made his way out of the cheap room he rented, glad that he decided to dress himself the moment he stepped out of his customary morning shower.

The outside air was crisp after a night of thunderstorms rolling through with enough rain to leave every balcony slick with at least six centimetres of water, but it was still a nice change from the horrid heat that burdened the city for over a week. Pretty girls walked the streets in small groups, each holding huge bags filled with who knows what while others patrons sat in cafes or restaurants, either alone or with another, and men in suits marched in and out of buildings, each concerned with getting to work or going to eat breakfast with another. So lively, the city was this morning. Perhaps he would make _Antoine_ come to the lovely place and have lunch with him. Then they could visit the museums that spotted the area; the curly haired Spaniard did like anything related to animals or history, so that would help elevate his mood without a doubt. Why, this entire city, with all of its monuments and historical value, was practically an amusement park for the man.

Francis let out a smiling sigh, neatly tucking his hands into his pockets as he turned and ambled down to the small shop only a block away that sold some of the best wine in the entire city. Sure, it was still a bit early, the Frenchman knew that luscious wine always made any situation better, especially when it came to romance, both good and bad; if his special way of comforting Antonio didn't work, the Spaniard could always drown away his troubles and cry it out on the blonds shoulder while watching sappy soap operas.

He'd probably stop and buy a few of Antonio's favourite flowers as well, just to make his Spanish speaking friend even happier. He wondered how the man was fairing, although it _had_ only been a day since he last saw him; it was always fairly upsetting to see such a light hearted man as a shattered shell of his normally cheerful self and Francis would do everything in his power to make him better.

Smiling at a group of lovely girls as he passed, throwing them into a giddy fit, Francis thought about his own troubles with the man that he wished would see him as an equal more than an annoyance. They had known each other for a very long time, although most of those years they were nothing than mere acquaintances constantly biting each other's head off. They had come a long way since then, but Arthur ignored Francis' advances as nothing than a ploy to get into his pants. Little did he know that he wanted it to be more than just sex... he wanted to be his and only his, but he couldn't get it through his head. Those enormous eyebrows must've burrowed into his brain and affected his reasoning skills, for he was after the blond American, who was both oblivious to Arthur's feelings and always wrapped up in that lab work of his. It was saddening to see the Briton's carefully hidden expressions of pain whenever Alfred would blow him off in favour of other matters, leaving Francis with a tiny prick in his heart. No matter... He would keep trying in his task of wooing the '_gentleman_' and he would succeed in the end.

Four hours later, a large bottle of wine and a bundle of red carnations were tucked under the Frenchman's arm as he walked down the remaining steps of pathway to Antonio's home. It was strange, seeing that the Spaniard's rental had been abandoned by the tiny bridge two miles prior, left unlocked with all of the windows down. While he was absent minded at times, he would never be so careless, especially with something he was borrowing.

Had the rejection bothered him that much? It was possible, with how long Antonio chased after Feli... and if it was so, then a whole bottle of wine and cheesy soap operas wouldn't be enough to calm his depression. Five years of liking a man did crazy things to people, especially if they only realized it a few months before being unwanted.

Hopefully this time, Antonio would've eaten something and got a reasonable amount of rest. The man truly was strange... the lack of food and energy, even for just one day, left him a bit on the crazy side where he could claim outrageous things that only Arthur would believe. While it was slightly amusing to watch him go out of his mind, it greatly concerned his friends since it would only get worse and worse until someone got hurt, just like when he went drinking with Gilbert and Ludwig. But it could easily be fixed by tying him to the bed after feeding him; Antonio would get bored and eventually fall asleep with nothing to do. He really was such a simple person, with literally everything; it was easy to get him to like someone and nearly impossible to make him hate another. Why, even will the horrid past between him and Arthur that nearly cost them each other's lives many times over, Antonio didn't _hate_ him, he just mildly disliked him. Hell, get the Briton drunk and the Spaniard tipsy, they absolutely loved each other. But instead of thinking about Antonio's relationships with other people, Francis needed to focus on the brunet himself and how to make him back into the spirited man that he was.

Especially that he could now see the Spaniard's small home.

Francis always liked his cottage, slightly jealous of how he was able to get such a beautiful house nestled in the middle of the woods. So far away, he was. It had to be so relaxing out here, where nothing could bother him since there wasn't the hustle of the city to annoy the country bumpkin and he could be alone when he wanted. There also was almost never a problem with any dangerous wildlife, so Antonio was fairly safe out here too. Besides, even if something did happen, he always kept his gun on him.

From the front door, everything looked normal from Francis' point of view, save for a small streak of mud, probably from the night before if Antonio went out for something. The door was unlocked as well, meaning the Spaniard was awake and welcoming people into his home. Francis twisted the handle, grinning as the door squealed open, allowing the blond to see into the dark home. As usual, it was spotless and everything was arranged as it had always been, although his lamp was missing from its normal spot on the end table beside the chair that Antonio was currently sitting in, blankly staring down the hallway with a frown set on his lips. Great... he probably hasn't eaten or slept at all. "_Antoine~_ A monster isn't going to come down the hall you know."

The Spaniard nearly leaped out of his chair, his eyes wild and frightened as they searched for the Frenchman's location before he stood up "Fr-Fran... What are you doing here!" He held up the wine and flowers, although they didn't elect the response that he wanted from the man. Antonio's face melted into one of absolute fear, both hands flying up to grasp his hair. "Oh no... no-no-no-no... you shouldn't be here, oh _god_ you shouldn't be here!" He dashed for Francis, tearing the items from his hands and rushed to place them on the table, nearly causing the wine to fall off of the counter, eyes never leaving the hallway.

It seemed that he lost his mind after all. "_Mon ami_, when did you sleep last?"

Those emeralds finally spared a glance at Francis before he frantically shook his head as mutters spewed from his lips. "Sleep? Sleep... I don't need sleep... sleep will get me killed."

Oh my... Hopefully his stomach wasn't empty. "How about eating?"

"No. Haven't had time."

Francis' brows arched up in confusion. Since when did the Spaniard pass up food, claiming he didn't have enough time? He always _made_ time for eating. It seemed that it was time for the man to be _cheered_ up before Francis made eat a quality meal, even if he had nothing worth cooking in his fridge. If that was the way it was, then he'd take him out to lunch. "_Antoine_~" He hummed, slowly taking steps towards the back of the home, watching as Antonio's eyes widened and his mouth opened to speak, only to remain silent. The Frenchman was half way there before the brunet moved.

"D-Don't go back there!" His voice was hushed, as if he was afraid that something would jump out at the two of them.

Francis paused, nearly at the door. "And why is that?"

Antonio's hand clamped over the blond's mouth, nearly throwing him against the wall. "_**He'll**__ hear you, and wake up!_" So low were his words, so low that Francis had to strain his ears to hear them, though when they were properly processed through his brain, another thing caught his attention; Antonio had said that there was another person in his home... but there was a low chance of that being true. When he got like this, he wouldn't let anyone but Gilbert or Francis in.

"Antonio..." The blue-eyed man sighed through the brunet's fingers, prying them away from his mouth. "Love, you need to get some rest." He interlaced Antonio's fingers between his own digits. "Come, let's lie down," with a single pull of his hand, they entered the room, "and then we..._Oh~ _What's _this_?"

Francis always admired the Spaniard's love of white sheets, even more when they were gently lying across the tanned flesh of the _gorgeous _man comfortably curled up and sleeping in Antonio's bed, completely naked, though the cloth covered his waist and all of the _interesting_ bits too. But it didn't matter, with how beautiful the rest of his body was. The foreign brunet obviously took care of himself, even his caramel hair with how soft and shiny it appeared, and the only flaw was the bandage across his right cheek that marred his exquisite beauty. Francis was jealous, dare he say... it wasn't often that he found strange men in Antonio's bed, especially ones that slightly resembled that Italian the brunet craved after for so long. He'd even go so far as to think that the man truly was from that boot-shaped country.

"... He's very lovely, isn't he?" Antonio paled at the Frenchman's words, ripping his hands away from the blond and pushing him behind the doorframe, blocking him from the slumbering man as if he was some kind of heathen. "So, what's his name?"

"Lovino..." Antonio spoke without realizing what he said, immediately wincing and throwing a wild look at the Frenchman. "But don't let him hear you! You'll wake him up!" The green-eyed brunet hissed, "He's not human!"

Oh lord... it was worse than he originally thought. "_Antoine_..." Francis sighed, trying to push his way back into the room, only to have the Spaniard in front of him once again. "How can such a man not be human? Have you been watching horror movies again?"

"Please believe me!", he begged, glancing over his shoulder at the so called _monster_, "His back or his gums! Look at them and then you'll believe me!"

He didn't want for his friend to get close, yet he wanted him to look inside his mouth? My, his reasoning skills really have abandoned him. "Love, wouldn't looking at his gums wake him up?"

"His spine then; it isn't normal!"

There wasn't any use trying to prove the man wrong with words... and it really was becoming tiresome.

"Alright, _Antoine_, but once you see that _nothing_ is wrong, will you _please_ get some rest?"

Brows furrowed over his burning emeralds, matching the hesitant gleam that covered their beauty like a layer of paint before he spoke, taking a step forward and ushering Francis to follow. "Fine, but stay behind me. I don't want you to get hurt." Ah, so protective the Spaniard was for his beloved ones, constantly worrying for their safety in dangerous situations. Francis merely sighed once more, following the man as they made their way to the bed, but before they even passed the closest corner of the end table, the slumbering brunet stirred. Antonio froze, apparently becoming aware of just how close he was to Lovino, barely an arm's reach away as the man stretched his legs and made a content noise in the back of his throat.

His shoulders rolled back, burying his uninjured cheek deeper into Antonio's soft pillow as his lissom fingers pressed closer to his chin. Another satisfied sound vibrated from the man, something akin to a hum reaching the Frenchman's ears.

It was captivating, watching such a lovely man awake from his slumber like a young kitten; eyes fluttering open to reveal stunning olive gems that simply glistened in the sun splayed across his face, each beam of the new day streaming in through the pale curtains. It was insane for Antonio to think that this _Lovino_ was a monster, but there he was, staring like a deer caught in some headlights once the brunet's eyes flicked up to the man. A gleam of what looked to be fondness glimmered in the rustic ring around his pupil despite the harsh glare that was given to the Spaniard, although the positive emotion wasn't very strong nor very apparent to an amateur, but it was _definitely_ there.

Francis never mistook the sprouting of admiration for anything else.

Yet... the look of absolute fear in Antonio's eyes troubled the blond. It was puzzling. Antonio wouldn't fear someone unless they did something absolutely horrible while in his sight, and in all honesty, Francis couldn't picture Lovino doing something like that, even though he never spoke to the man.

Lovino sighed, shifting around until he was sitting up. A shaky step backwards was taken by the Spaniard, earning a displeased snort from the brunet and a deeper frown upon his lips that twitched before slightly weakening. So... it seemed that Lovino didn't want Antonio to be frightened of him, and... Was that a bit of regret or fear drifting behind those lashes? Oh, indeed it was, both actually. Apparently, there has already been something that barred the two from behaving with each other like civil people and Francis made it his goal to evaporate whatever that wall could be. This could easily break Antonio of his crush on Feliciano and let him think of other things for once, including his friends; Francis would only have to show him that Lovino was harmless and that Antonio truly needed rest to see this fact.

Or at least to eat some food, but that would easily be arranged.

Not one word was passed between the two brunets while they continued to stare at each other, well more one glaring as he drew the blankets closer to his chest and the other looking like he was about to jump out the window, but what did it matter? Their silence was beginning to annoy the Frenchman, so he decided to take things into his own hands, starting with a cough muffled behind his hand. The very moment that the noise met Lovino's ears, he jumped up, flicking startled olives to the blond and gathering as much of the sheets as he could to his chest, desperately trying to hide his body. Such a bashful little thing he was, turning a faint pink around his cheeks before a frown stretched itself across his lips and his brows furrowed down enough to cast a shadow over his eyes. Francis approached the bed, ignoring Antonio's shocked glance and how Lovino nearly pushed himself off the side of the mattress with his feet. A hand was offered to the frightened man along with a tender smile. "Hello there."

Fuming eyes flicked down at the Parisian man's fingers, glaring at them like they were dripping with acid and would kill the man if they so much as touched his foot or his leg. Those said parts curled up closer to his torso, trying so desperately to make himself as small as possible while attempting to make himself seem frightening to the Frenchman, only he was failing _miserably_ at it; Lovino looked more like a puffed up kitten than the snarling beast Antonio apparently saw him as. "My name is Francis. It's nice to meet you, Lovino." He tried once more, noticing how the brunet's expression became somewhat blank before his eyes narrowed, shooting a ferocious glare at Antonio, who paled in return.

Francis sighed, leaning back into a proper stand and slipping his hands into his pockets. So this _Lovino_ was a spitfire... This was new for the Spaniard. He usually went after the bubbly ones rather than the ones who would bite his head off. So what educed _this_ change in type? Did Feliciano's rejection affect him this badly? But it seemed that he didn't have much time to fret on such trivial matters; Lovino looked to be three seconds away from leaping across the bed and strangling the Spaniard with his hands, or perhaps with the sheets he held so close to his chest. Either way, unless the blond intervened, Antonio's future would certainly be bleak. Maybe Lovino would like to come with them to get lunch. Ah~ What a genius he was! Lunch was a perfect way to break down emotional barriers and get to know someone, not to mention that Lovino would probably be starving as well. Which brought up yet another issue; what did Lovino like? While Francis could go with the stereotypical thought of pasta, there could be the chance that the man didn't like that type of food.

There would be time to figure that out later. "Say, Lovino~" Francis cooed out, inching closer to Antonio until he was able to slip his arm around the brunet's bulkier appendage. "How would you like to come with _Antoine_ and me for lunch?" The Italian shifted his glower at the blond and then back to Antonio, probably wordlessly demanding an explanation from the Spaniard, who still was shaking like a leaf in caught in a fierce gale. He sighed once more, "Since you seem to be the quiet type, I'll just take _Antoine_ here and go into the living room. Once you and Antonio get dressed, we can be on our way."

The moment the two men left the bedroom, Antonio had a fit, starting with the disbelieving gawk he gave Francis before it morphed into a mix of anger and absolute fear. "What the hell, Francis!" Antonio screeched as he shook the blond by his shoulders before releasing him. His fingers clinched at his frail curls, threatening to rip them out as his back slammed into the wall, which threw a few of his hanging photos off from the perfect balance they once had. Fear, despair and even a bit of anger swirled in his wide emerald eyes, tainting them with emotions that almost _never_ crossed his mind...

Oh my.

He was quite serious when he thought all of those incredibly foolish things about Lovino and there probably wasn't anything right at this moment that could change his mind. "He's going to kill everyone... we're all doomed..."

"Antonio..." Francis groaned out once the Spaniard slid down the wall and landed on the perfect ass that he owned, now clutching his face with those hands that were once in his hair. "_Antoine, mon ami_, if he truly was this _monster _you call him, he would've killed me the moment he noticed that I was in the room." Kneeling beside the man, the blond pried Antonio's hands away from his face and held them in his much softer ones as he pressed a soft kiss to his temple. "Now wouldn't that be true?" He whispered while he brushed a few of the curls away from Antonio's eyes. "Wouldn't it?"

Incomprehensible stammers fluttered from Antonio's lips, failing to form any words, even when he shakily rose to his feet, nearly falling back down from the tremors in his legs. "I-I-It's a tr-trick." He finally managed to stutter out as he stepped past Francis, circling around to the kitchen counter and reaching for the bottle of unopened wine, but his friend tore the alcoholic drink from his fingers before he had the chance to uncork it. "It's a-all just a trick!"

Sighing again, Francis forced Antonio down into one of the chairs, holding him down by his shoulders. "Calm down, Antonio. You're overreacting."

Acidic eyes shot up at the Parisian, their ferocity curling up his lips into a snarl and Antonio leaped up, easily overpowering his friend. "_Overreacting_!" He screeched as he grabbed a fist full of Francis' shirt, pulling him down and nearly choking him in the process. Breath hissed through the blond's mouth, but Antonio didn't let him speak, forcing him to listen to the horrid voice seething through his clinched teeth instead. "You don't know _**anything **_about what I lived through yesterday!" Pulling him down further, their foreheads touched and harshly ground against the other. "He _attacked_ me, Francis. He _**infected**_ me!"

Infected..._really_? Francis rolled his eyes. What could a human infect him with other than a cold or illness that could probably be treated with the right medication? An idea perhaps, but certainly nothing that Antonio willingly believed to be true. "I see no wounds, Antonio. Lovino has more than you do." The Spaniard grabbed Francis' wrist with an unusually rough grip, forcing the man to splay his fingers onto his belly.

"It's in _here_! _**Don't**__ tell me that you don't __**feel it**_, Francis!" He bellowed. His eyes were frantic and wild before his voice dropped down to a hiss against the back of his teeth, tickling at the blond's nose. "_It_ hasn't stopped moving... stopped _squirming_ ever since sunrise and it _hurts_. _More _than it ever has before."

He only felt the frantic beats of the Spaniard's heart.

So Antonio truly was believing the entire tale of Lovino being some kind of monster hell-bent on making his world has horrible as possible, so much that he mistook what were probably hunger pangs for something else entirely. "Love, you're imagining things." Francis whispered once he pulled his hand away from Antonio's stomach, using his fingers to push the man _back_ into the chair before easing around the counter over to the fridge. "All you need is some rest and some food, and those feelings will stop." Well, what little he did have probably wouldn't be enough to sate him for long, considering he only had a few oranges, some bread and two tomatoes. That wouldn't cover two people for more than a day, especially two grown _men_.

"I didn't imagine anything! He _attacked_ me last night!"

Oh boy. He really wasn't going to give up, was he? Pulling an orange from the small bowl, Francis returned to the kitchen island and to the Spaniard helplessly staring at him with wide eyes. He began to peel it with his fingers while he spoke to the brunet. "Lovino is the one who looks like he's been attacked." All Antonio had was a small bruise on his neck and on his finger... well _fingers_, since his nails were considerably darker than the last time Francis saw them.

"He had me pinned on the ground! I had to do _something_!"

...

He didn't...

"Please, don't tell me you hit him with your lamp."

Antonio glared at Francis after sending a quick glance over his shoulder to check the hallway. "I had to! And then when I tried to get a way, he chased me and attacked me _again_!"

He couldn't stop his palm from connecting with his face, and a sigh from escaping his lips. Was the man truly serious? "Did you ever stop to think that he may have attacked you _because_ you _hit him in the face with a __**lamp**_?"

"He would've... attacked..." Antonio's speech slowed down considerably as the thoughts ran their course through his brain, obviously making him question his actions and the consequences they brought. He furiously shook his head, clutching his hair and digging his elbows into the counter. "No! No... he would've done it anyway!"

Francis sighed again, splitting the peeled orange in half and giving one part to his friend while keeping the other for the brunet still getting dressed. "Just hush and eat." Thankfully, the Spaniard did as he commanded, although his eyes locked themselves on the counter and occasionally the orange in his hands. He wasn't in much of a hurry to eat it though, slowly nibbling on the slices like he didn't have much of an appetite.

Antonio did look up long enough to notice Francis' eyes trained on the hallway, waiting for Lovino to walk down it in proper attire, and he scoffed at the Frenchman. "Don't expect him to be out anytime soon."

The blond slid his eyes down to the Spaniard, whose face was contorted into a weak grimacing snarl. "Why's that, _mon cher_?"

Antonio halted his steady process of eating the fruit to look up at Francis, using his non-sticky fingers to scratch at the stubble growing along his jaw. "I don't think he understands how things work." Francis was beginning to think that _Antonio _didn't understand how things worked, and was considering tying him to the bed after forcing some muscle relaxers into his system. "He had to _figure out_ how to use soap yesterday."

"Maybe he has amnesia or some kind of head injury and doesn't remember, Antonio. I'm starting think that you're _trying_ to find ways to say that he's not human."

"_No I'm __**NOT**_!" He screamed, finally losing what little restraint he had, sending his chair flying as he forcibly stood up and lunged across the counter for the Frenchman. "_I'm __**not**__ looking for a da-..._" His words were cut off by a sharp gasp escaping his lips, and then a groan filled with more pain than Francis cared to hear. Another whimper fluttered into the air, following the Spaniard as he collapsed onto the floor, curling up and holding onto his stomach with his nails biting into his skin. A horrid choking noise vibrated in his throat, matching just how tightly his eyes and teeth were clinched.

Dropping the orange half on the counter, Francis rushed over to his friend now gasping in pain and tried to turn him over onto his back. Antonio yelped when his fingers brushed over his skin, even going so far as to try to push himself away from the Parisian, only to bump his head into the other chair and sending it toppling over. Wild and frightened, his eyes stared at the blond, remaining unblinking even as tears began to drip down his face.

Tears... down _Antonio's_ face.

Antonio _never_ cries when he is in pain.

This was serious... Whether Lovino was a monster or not, Francis would need his help to carry Antonio out to the car so they could drive him to the hospital. There wasn't one that far from here, once they got out of the wooded area at least, and if they hurried, he wouldn't be in pain for longer than necessary. Fighting Antonio and keeping him under control would be the most challenging part, but once he was in the car and secure, he wouldn't be a hassle and would probably sit in the back, staying quiet just like all of the other times Francis or Gilbert had to force him to go to the hospital. He reached for the Spaniard once again, sighing as the man tried to get away by standing up, only to fall back on the ground and clutch his stomach. Such a pain. Maybe Lovino would have more luck.

Yet, as he opened his mouth to call for the man, a blotch of chocolate entered his peripheral and Antonio's look of fear intensified. He looked over to see Lovino, already dressed in very nice clothing, glaring at Antonio as he kneeled beside the Frenchman. With one tug on Antonio's ankle, Lovino pulled the curly haired man down between the two, flipped him over and held him down to the floor by his shoulders. Still glaring at the Spaniard, the brunet ran his eyes down Antonio's body, stopping once he reached his stomach, only to flicker his scowl back up to his face. He said nothing... nothing at all as he gracefully slipped his fingers under Antonio's, lightly pressing on the man's stomach before leaning forward. A soft gasp breached the Spaniard's lips at the seemingly gentle touch, although Francis wasn't quite sure what spurred it from the man. There was a possibility that his belly had grown extra sensitive in its moment of pain, or Lovino's hands could've simply been cold. Either way, the pain seemed to slowly drain from Antonio's eyes the longer Lovino kept his hand against the man's abdomen, although the fear failed to disappear.

Such a strange man he was, being able to terrify the man yet comfort him at the same time. It definitely was a feat to behold, especially how easily Antonio complied with the man when he pulled him up and forced his back against the half-wall to their left, before standing up for only a moment to grab what remained of Antonio's orange off of the counter. Lovino stared at the fruit for a second, but quickly dug his nail into one of the corners to tear off a slice. Perhaps there was a chance that he forgot how to do most things that people took for granted, yet he seemed to be a very fast learner so Francis wasn't too concerned about his future. At first, Antonio kept his mouth clamped shut when Lovino offered him the orange slice, even going so far as to turn his head, but his noncompliance to the brunet's obvious attempts to help him were only drawing a harsher scowl from the man. Apparently, he wasn't having any of that.

With his free hand, he forced Antonio to look at him, then slipped his thumb between the Spaniard's lips and pried his mouth open, quickly sliding in the orange slice before he could pull away. After clamping the man's mouth shut and watching him chew, Lovino tore off another piece then made Antonio eat it as well, this time with only a bit of hesitance behind the green-eyed brunet's response.

Francis merely watched the two, holding back a chuckle from how it was strangely cute of Lovino too be caring for the Spaniard while looking like he was moments away from ripping off his head. Antonio was insane for thinking the man was out to get him. When the orange half was gone, Lovino stood back up to search for the other half, giving Francis enough time to ask how Antonio was fairing. He only scowled, bringing his hand up so it was resting on his stomach. "It doesn't hurt anymore." Well that was good news, probably made possible by what little food he did eat but he didn't seem too happy about it. If anything, his expression had a layer of confusion under the fear and revulsion that stained his dark skin, which only grew once Lovino kneeled beside him again with the orange half in his hands.

"That half was for you, Lovino." Francis managed to say before he pulled off another slice. Lovino stared at him and then the freed part before he glared, bringing it to his mouth and biting off half. He chewed, as if contemplating whether or not he liked the taste. His expression softened once he swallowed it, apparently liking what he had although still forced Antonio to eat what he did not of that small piece, only to do the same with all of the other slices he tore off. He got half and Antonio got the other. Ah, it truly was a blooming affection that Lovino held for the Spaniard, no matter how much he tried to hide it with glares and soft snorts in response to Antonio's less than civil expressions. No matter, he still had something in his belly now so lunch could wait. Now, they needed to get him into that bed of his and force him to sleep.

Perhaps Lovino would be able to make it easier for the both of them.

"Help me get him into bed." Francis asked the brunet as he leaned forward, taking Antonio's hand into his own and pulling him up. He refused to move with Francis' will, completely unwilling to comply with his friend, although, when Lovino threw the man's arm under his shoulder and _forced_ him to stand up, Antonio was a bit more willing. The blond didn't even _need_ to help drag the man to the back of the house with how firm the brunet's grip was on the man's pajama bottoms and wrist. All was looking to be running smoothly, at least until Antonio's body suddenly shifted to the side, nearly bringing Lovino with him as he became nothing more than dead weight against the brunet's smaller form.

Francis really should've expected this. His system was probably nearly dead by now, so passing out wasn't much of a surprise for the Frenchman. He just needed rest.

When Francis helped Lovino drag Antonio to the only bed in the house, the Spaniard was already snoring and grumbling to himself once his body met his mattress. Lovino simply sat beside him on the edge of the bed, glaring down at him with the same frown he had worn ever since Francis first met him. A shame... it really was. Antonio just couldn't _see_ how much Lovino had already cared for him in his time of need, choosing to only focus on the delusion the lack of food and sleep implanted into his brain instead of what was right in front of him.

They continued to watch the man for around five hours. Lovino never moved an inch at all, even when the Frenchman's phone went off, signalling he had a text from his boss. "Hey, sorry, but I have to attend to some work business. Can you handle him by yourself?" Lovino didn't spare him a glance, but the twitch in his eye informed the blond that he had heard what he said. "Good. Just make sure he gets plenty of rest and food, and he'll be fine. Once he wakes up, I'm sure he'll call for a tow-truck to get his car and then you two could get some groceries."

Once again, Lovino seemingly ignored him in favour of glowering at Antonio.

* * *

><p>He felt better than he had all day when his eyes finally pried open. It was already dark, with his clock reading about nine and all of the lights in his house off. Francis must've gone home... but where was Lovino? Antonio glanced around to his sides, unable to see below his shoulders with the current angle of his head, yet, when he sat up a bit, something was holding onto his fingers with a loose grip. Looking down, a patch of chocolate hair caught his eyes, connected to a body that was very close to falling over the edge, even though it was lying on its side. It looked... <em>painful<em>... the way he had his body positioned, but it was evident that he was sound asleep from the deep breaths that filled his lungs and smoothly hissed from his mouth. Lovino wasn't wearing a shirt, probably with the heat finally getting to him, allowing Antonio to see those glowing speckles on his body once more... although...

...they were a pale red now, instead of the blue from the night before.

And their pattern of flickering was a bit different as well. He could only describe it as _panicked_ or even _nervous_, with how tiny the markings were and how quickly they seemed to fluctuate.

He couldn't be worried about the Spaniard... Nothing that he did today could've been from his heart; it was insane to think so. Lovino was only acting the way he did because he was in front of _Francis_, even showing off that he could control the parasite inside of Antonio's stomach, most likely as a ploy to get the Frenchman to return home, leaving the two alone once more. Apparently it worked too. Just great. This was_ perfect_... Now Lovino wouldn't have to worry about witnesses if he decided to maul the Spaniard and then eat him. He had to find a way out... but with how close the brunet was to his leg, it would definitely prove to be a challenge.

Moving to the right, Antonio tried to get to the other side of the bed, hissing in annoyance when Lovino tightened his grip on the Spaniard's smallest finger. He swore under his breath as the creature stirred from his slumber, as if he was reading Antonio's movements from his finger alone and propped himself up onto his elbows. Tired, weary olives flicked over to Antonio's position, blinking once and then again before he let out a drained sigh, and pushed himself closer to the Spaniard. Lethargic clicks purred in his throat as those eyes stared into his own emeralds, getting close enough so he easily feel Lovino's warm breaths flutter from his parted lips. One by one, his markings glimmered, slowly morphing into the blue colour of the previous night and swelling in size.

There was no anger in his eyes...

No _ferocity_ that Antonio had already grown used to seeing thrown in his direction.

There was only a subtle _relief_ swirling in his irises, behind the obvious exhaustion that threatened to overpower him, but he forced them to remain open, even as he pushed Antonio back down onto the bed and rested his head upon the Spaniard's shoulder. A few soft clatters reached his ears, matching how carefully Lovino snuggled his protruding spine into the brunet's side. Once again, he felt warmth tenderly curl around his outermost digits and a thumb lightly run across the back of his hand, leaving his flesh tingling in return.

Why was he so... so _cuddly_ all of a sudden? It didn't make any sense to the Spaniard, even when he sifted through the memories he had filed in his brain. Was Lovino just highly _affectionate_ when he was tired? No... It couldn't be that. Lovino was only trying to make him lower his guard, he was absolutely sure of it. Monsters didn't have a drop of affection in their body. More clicks filled the air around the two, followed by a weak sigh and Lovino nuzzling Antonio's shoulder with his cheek before becoming extremely relaxed, as if the day's worries had rush out of his body all at once. Either that or he fell asleep. No matter what happened, there wasn't any possible way Antonio could move without waking the creature, with how much of a light sleeper he was, so he chose to remain still; hoping that any sudden movements wouldn't bring the man-thing's wrath upon him.

Seconds turned to minutes and the only lights in the room were the blaring red of his clock and Lovino's luminescent speckles upon his flesh... leaving Antonio with little to nothing to look at, and he was growing extremely bored already. That, in turn, left him sleepy, but he didn't want to bend to the will of his body. He didn't feel safe next to his hellish creature, no matter how docile he was when he slept or how he apparently "_cared_" about his health. Antonio even tried to watch the patterns on Lovino's skin flicker and how they grew a tad bit brighter every time he huddled his body a little bit closer to the Spaniard's warmth, buy he quickly grew bored of that too. So now, since his nails suddenly started to itch, he occupied himself with scratching at their edges. At least until he finally fell asleep.

The morning light streamed in through his windows, instantly waking the Spaniard from his slumber. A groan rumbled in his throat, pressing against the slight pressure upon his chest, which he found to be Lovino, who apparently turned over in his sleep. No matter. He seemed out of it for now, so Antonio remained still and merely stared at his ceiling. He'd have to clean it soon, with how many cobwebs were starting to form from the lack of sweeping... ah, but that was too much of a hassle. It could wait 'till later. He yawned after a few more moments of staring at the walls, lazily scratching at his stomach, only to pause once he realized it didn't feel _normal_. Trying again, he noticed how he didn't feel the normal sensation of nails running across his abdomen but fleshy nubs instead. Frowning, he brought his fingers up to his sight... nearly gagging and screaming at the same time.

All of his nails had fallen off... and only caked blood remained in their place.


	5. The sickness is rising

**From this chapter and on, the story will be split between Gilbert's parts and Antonio/Lovino's. You will see why I have done this.**

**As I said before, and will continue to say:**

**Everything has a reason.**

**I do not own Hetalia.  
><strong>

* * *

><p>Scorched breaths flooded Antonio's lungs as they convulsed in terror, forcing his entire body to clinch up and trickles of blood to bead on the edges of his cuticles. His eyes widened and his heaves for air becoming harsher and raspier before he was on the verge of hyperventilating, easily leaving him a bit light headed as more blood gushed from his fingers. Pain shot down his hands, ricocheting up his arms like someone had stabbed each digit with a knife, digging into the graves of his nails with the tip of the blade. A garbled choke clawed up his throat, seething out of his nose as a whine that was able to stir Lovino from his dreams. He yawned out a clattering sigh, lightly digging his fingers into Antonio's chest and running his cheek against the man's shoulder before allowing his eyes to pry themselves open.<p>

Another breath escaped the creature as he slowly propped himself up onto his elbows, casting his drowsy gaze upon Antonio's stiff fingers. Lovino reached up for the Spaniard's throbbing digits without a sound, allowing the tips to rest in his palm before tracing them with his thumb, pausing only when a particularly harsh twitch forced the brunet's fingers to clinch. His oddly soft gesture lasted a moment before he let out another yawn and turned back over, falling asleep once again.

Lovino didn't care... that _monster_ didn't _**care **_that he was in pain because of _him_? He would force the man to eat, but wouldn't spare a second glance when his fucking nails randomly separated themselves from his fingers during the night?

Oh... _**oh**_**, **Antonio was beyond furious and _way_ beyond irritated with the monster. He didn't care if the thing could snap in half or rip out his heart, Lovino _would_ know of the pain he was forcing the Spaniard into, even if it meant Antonio would have to be putting his life in danger. With a raging growl, Antonio flipped Lovino over onto his back and wrapped his fingers around the creature's neck, pressing down with as much strength that he could muster. "_This is __**your**__ fault_!" More force was applied to his throat, cutting off his airways as he dug his fingers into his flesh, which allowed blood to seep through the remains of his nail bed. Lovino was startled, to say the least with how wide and fearful his eyes became at the sound of Antonio's roar, not to mention how his body instantly retaliated when he could no longer breathe. Panicked clatters filled the air, mixing with the Spaniard's engaged breaths that seethed from his clinched teeth.

The monster's life was going to end here.

There was _nothing_ that would stop him from meeting his task.

Kicks and scratches alike tried to force the Spaniard off of the brunet, each small move dripping with terror, but they did little to calm the raging man. He only pressed down harder, completely ignoring the burning sensation smouldering in his stomach as he became more and more exasperated. Lovino was scared... oh there wasn't a thing in the _world_ that could prove otherwise, probably thinking to himself why his little _puppet_ was trying to kill him, but Antonio disregarded the fear swirling behind his olive eyes. Yet, that very same terror that painted flecks behind that rusted colour soon melted into something akin to instinct tainted wrath.

Antonio's heart painfully throbbed against his ribs, speeding up once he felt nails dig into his arms like tiny knives, each trying to pierce his bones in retaliation as Lovino managed to choke out a garbled screech. He bared his fangs and mandibles, trying to frighten Antonio away with the awful truth that lay behind such a pretty face, but it wasn't going to work. Antonio certainly wasn't Francis and he was _not_ going chicken out this time.

With each second that passed, Lovino's pitiful fight against the Spaniard became more and more fretful as his skin began to lose its colour. He attempted to claw at Antonio's face while kicking his legs out in every direction that he could, squeaking out the tiny breaths managed to slip past the brunet's hold on his throat before he squeezed his eyes shut. Tears trickled out from under his lids, just as his legs wrapped around Antonio's hips. Probably as a last effort, Lovino threw as much of his weight as he could to the side, which actually succeeded in switching their positions, freeing the creature from the man's grip. He held Antonio down with his entire body, pinning his hands beside his head. Such a harsh glare was given to Lovino, matching the one he returned right back at the Spaniard once he caught his breath and hissed at the man under his weight.

Those mandibles furiously clicked against his teeth, though they were nothing compared to the horrible screech that tore through his mouth, completely and utterly as blood curling as the ghastly crimson slits glowing upon onyx sclera. Scalding heat engulfed Antonio's face from the sheer amount of breath that gushed from the creature's lips during his moment of fury, although a ragged cough forced its way out of his throat soon after.

Streaks of smeared blood stained the flesh around his neck and under his jaw, probably matching the drops still falling from Antonio's fingers as Lovino pressed them deeper into the mattress. He screeched once more but this one was a bit weaker and raspier than the last, quickly tapering off into more hacks and wheezes. Antonio sneered at the disgusting creature straddling his waist, still burning with the remains of the abrupt rage that possessed his body and mind, each sliver of that fury coiling up in his stomach, crackling and licking at his belly like a hungry flame. It was becoming too hot... _burning_ his insides as it inched its way up his throat and bubbled at the rear of his mouth. He frantically tried to swallow the rising bile back down, not wanting to ruin his sheets any more than they already were, but more swirled up moments later, forcing him to clamp his lips over his teeth in hopes of not letting any escape.

Yet, after a few seconds, his stomach lurched from the amount of stress building up in his body. Antonio practically threw Lovino off of him and made a sprint for the bathroom across the hall. The lid was thankfully open when Antonio nearly slid across the room on his knees, emptying out his stomach once he reached the toilet. Sickening, it was... obviously stemming from all of the accumulated stress over the past days on top of the migraine that had wormed its way into his head and the pain stabbing at his fingers.

He really needed to calm down, to stop all of the sudden aggression from warping his senses, but just as he caught his breath, his stomach clinched once again and forced more viscous substance to rush across his tongue. In all honesty, he felt disgusting. Well, more with himself than anything else. He attacked Lovino without any type of justifiable provocation, resorting to basing his reactions on instinct and stress alone, which left him no better than that monster in his bedroom. After coughing up the last bit of the repulsive fluid that decided to cling to the back of his throat, Antonio plopped down onto his rear, sprawling out onto the floor as he rested his skull upon the lip of his tub.

Now that the initial anger had bubbled down to a simmer, Antonio felt ill. His stomach ached as if someone forced him to eat a handful of needles, and a sticky sweat covered most of his chest and arms, leaving his body chilled despite the humidity hovering throughout his home. A low groan fluttered from his lips, vibrating in his throat before it ricocheted into his belly. This was just too much.

The pain...

The fuming anger pricking at his skin...

Even the terrible chill that made his hair stand on end once he heard the soft patting of feet against his wooden floors. He refused to move, not at all wanting his body to protest by overwhelming his nerves with an explosion of pain, although, he did allow his eyes to glance at the form standing in the doorway.

Lovino glared down at the Spaniard, his face back to its "normal" state. His lips curled up into a scowl, which formed wrinkles along his nose and bared his teeth, completing his look of infuriation along with how tense his entire body had become. A clattering growl rumbled in his throat and his brows deepened the lines forming between them, but they trembled... as if he was tittering on the line of anger and another emotion. Confusion perhaps? Or was it something else? Bah, did he really care? That monster was glaring at him with more hatred than had crossed that mug of his in the few days that Antonio knew him, but he didn't take another step towards the Spaniard, like he had anticipated. Instead, he continued to give Antonio the enraged sneer that distorted his face, until a harsh scoff leaped from his throat. "You damn bastard." And then the creature abandoned the doorway for what Antonio assumed to be the kitchen or perhaps only the din.

W-What just happened? Where Antonio's ears playing a dirty trick on his mind? He was absolutely _sure_ that he didn't see Lovino's mouth move when he heard that genuinely accented, rich voice soothingly gliding across his eardrums, flicking some sort of memory into his head. Not only that, but Antonio was absolutely positive that he heard that voice somewhere before, he just didn't know where.

Antonio contemplated if he wanted to chase after the man-thing and demand to know _how long_ he was able to talk, but as soon as he decided to attempt to stand up, searing pain erupted under the beds of his nails. It was like someone was digging a fire-licked blade into his cuticles, slicing and charring the flesh as it moved to the very tip of his fingers. Clutching his hands to his chest, Antonio let out a whimpering groan, attempting to hold back any sounds of pain so he wouldn't draw Lovino into the rear of the cottage. Another explosion of pain erupted in his fingers, forcing each digit to twitch and lock up, leaving him unable to flex his fingers, and a shaky breath slithered from the back of his throat, blotching out the low groan that rumbled in his lungs. The pain only grew and festered as the minutes dragged on, clawing its way up his arms and shoulders, trying, _begging_ him to look down at his aching hands.

Carefully, much like he suspected his fingers to fall off if he moved too quickly, Antonio pulled his hands away from his chest, peering down only for his breath to catch in his throat. The matrices had swollen up, leaving nasty knots where his nails used to begin, and they were only growing and swelling up with every second his eyes lingered on them. It was horrible... _grotesque_. How could such a thing be happening? Blood continued to seep through the nail bed, dripping onto his chest and the hem of his pants before a heavier stream began to gush out from the budding wounds. Yet, through the layer of blood, Antonio caught a glimpse of something tiny, and black jutting out from the swollen masses on his fingers.

They were sharp, whatever they were, obviously the source of Antonio's pain as they slowly sliced through his skin with their knife like edges. They continued to grow larger and longer, despite how rough his breaths became. He knew, right at that moment, that they needed to be torn from his body. He couldn't risk getting an infection with that monster watching over every single one of his movements, and with the parasite breeding in his stomach.

Fighting back the groans and gasps that tired to force themselves from his throat, Antonio managed to stand up without much difficulty, but staying balanced was troublesome with so much pain swimming around in his head. Breaths seethed through his teeth with every step, blood squirting up through the matching wounds on his toes but he refused to give up. Blood painted footprints were left behind by the Spaniard, along with the crimson streaked across his once spotless walls every time he had to lean against it to prevent a nasty fall to the ground. There was just so much... so much pain that throbbed in every nerve across his body, blotching out his sight with speckles of black and white with each pulse that attacked his mind.

Lovino glared at him when he horridly limped past the couch in a flurry of huffs and hushed Spanish swears, but the creature didn't come to his side. He only watched from the settee with that horrible scowl set onto his face as Antonio nearly collapsed against the kitchen counter, forcing his hand to bend to his will in order to dig though the drawer for a knife. A thin blade, one of his favorite dicing knives, was his weapon of choice, already glittering red with the blood that dripped onto the sharpened edge. Glorious, it was... the perfect tool to his salvation from pain.

Antonio slammed his hand on the table, slipping the tip of the blade under that black thing growing from the remains of his nail, yet, just as he began to lift the horrid thing up, someone tore the knife from his grip. It landed across the room with a metallic clatter, echoing the horrid clicking vibrating in his ear as Lovino pushed his weight against Antonio, holding him down on the counter. "What are you doing!" The Spaniard yelled at the creature, becoming more and more desperate to alleviate himself of the pain. Lovino said nothing in a human tongue to the brunet, using that disgusting insect language to reply before grabbing Antonio by the wrist. With his touch alone, no matter how gentle he apparently tried to make it, Antonio's flesh became electrified with needle sharp pains, and he screamed as a frantic need to escape raged through his body. "Let go! _Let go of me_!"

It was frightening how quickly Lovino released Antonio, gawking at him like he grew a second head as the Spaniard tried to shuffle backwards, still yelling at the creature before hitting the wall and sliding down it.

The pain was too much... Burning him... _Torturing _him with its steely teeth; biting at his fingers, gnawing up his arms and snapping at his shoulders. His hands on his face did nothing to soothe the aches popping everywhere on his body, especially his fingers. If anything, their pain grew at a horrendous rate, as its teeth closed around his heart; clinching it, _ensnaring_ it between its scorching fangs, sending the organ into a panicked frenzy. The terrible rhythm matched the blood that seemed to gush out of his wounds, spewing crimson liquid that slithered down his arms and fingers, smearing red on his face and creating tiny puddles on his floor.

He wanted to scream, he wanted to do _anything_ to make the awful pain go away, but the pitiful whimpers that bubbled through his lips felt like they were tearing a hole in his throat with every rough vibration, each more metallic than he remembered them to be. A bitter gasp tore at his lungs like a searing blade and his body attempted to curl up in order to subdue the aches, twitching as if he was having a very mild seizure, but the terrible hurting only strengthened, until there was a sickening crack, leaving the Spaniard's mind throbbing with raging flames.

His fingers locked up once more, hands quivering in agony and a wet squelch met his ears at the same time moist warmth dripped onto their outer shells. He didn't _need_ to look to know... to know that those _hideous _black _things_ under his cuticles were rapidly elongating; tearing flesh and bone alike with every twitch of his fingers as a low whine rumbled in his gullet, quickly morphing into ear grating screech.

Every tiny stream of light blinded the pitiful Spaniard, leaving him with no other choice than to squeeze his eyes shut if he didn't want them to hurt, but they still did. Pain radiated from the rear of his eyes, becoming a sharp prick before spreading out until it encased the entirety of the small orbs, pulsating like something was weakly pinching them with dull knives. Antonio groaned in agony, his voice tapering off at a higher pitch before morphing into breathless gasps, and then further into crackling sobs.

This... oh god, he couldn't form any thoughts over the fire licking at his skin and mind, and he nearly missed the foreign warmth trying to pry his hands away from his face, followed by a gentle series of clicks. Those fingers, no matter how soft they tried to be against his flesh, burned far worse than the other aches raging in every pore and every nerve stretching across his body. Antonio shrieked as the pain was registered by his brain, swatting and kicking at the creature who caused this searing heat to envelop him, screaming while he tried to keep the beast away. "_No, __**no**_! _Stop_! _No_!"

The migraine from before welled up behind the walls of his skull, drilling into the areas behind his ears as a sweltering blaze that scorched the ringing drums with its poisoned teeth.

"_Stop... make it __**stop**_!"

Toxins warmed the rest of his skull, although the heat was quickly drained away as a chilled frost formed over the complex organ, reducing every feeling that touched the Spaniard to nothing but pain. He needed to escaped these horrible feelings... he needed to be free. He needed... he nee-

_SMACK_

"Antonio, you dumb fuck! _Listen_ to me!" The voice from earlier roared in Antonio's ears, somewhat soothing them despite the hostility that dripped from each word, effectively silencing the Spaniard, although the slap itself was probably the real reason he halted his shrieks. "God _dammit, _you're being annoying; I try to help you and you fucking push me away!"

Antonio pried his eyes open, staring at the blotches of cinnamon and bronze painted amongst the blaring white directly in front of him, before his gaze drifted to the specks of olive, instantly recognizing them as Lovino's eyes. He was so close to him and the thought of the creature being in such a close proximity clinched cold fingers around his heart, drawing out harsh, panicked pants from his lungs. Lovino _growled_ this time, his voice lacking the clicks that used to be his sole form of communicating. He moved his hands to the Spaniard's shoulders, pushing him against the wall. "Calm down!"

"Y-Y-You're _talking... _you're talking?" He stammered as he tried to push himself away from Lovino, completely forgetting that he was already pressed to the wall.

The brunet scoffed at Antonio's exclamation, inching closer as if he was inspecting his face. "I've been talking the entire damn time." His words were much softer than before, preceding a mumble to himself and a quick brush of a finger against the man's forehead. "_Wasn't supposed to be this fast..._"Antonio nearly missed the low whisper.

"No..._no..._. You were _clicking_! Not talking!"

"You're just an idiot." His words held no acidity to them, each syllable swelling with more concern than the last. Another bite of pain surged through Antonio's nerves, drawing out a wail and an arch to his back as his entire body seized, his arms shooting out for anything near him, which happened to be Lovino's shoulders. The creature hissed several curses once the brunet's nails burrowed into his skin. "_Shit_! Watch what you're doing!"

Why did he hurt so much? Where was this pain coming from?

Antonio's body twitched once more, and he leaped forward, pressing against Lovino's form in want of _anything_ that could make his pain go away. The creature became stiff under the larger male's hold, contemplating his next move before hesitantly wrapping his arms around the Spaniard and rubbing his shoulders. "I can make some of the pain stop, but you have to stop those bullshit ideas that I want to kill you. Okay?" Antonio furiously shook his head, not caring how he got rid of the pain, only that it would be gone, even if he had to rely on that monster for relief. "Stay calm, you hear?" Lovino whispered into his ear, earning a pained shudder in return from Antonio as he felt the brunet's breath wash lower and lower along his skin, pausing when a pair of lips brushed against the crook of his neck. They parted, allowing two syringe-like points to brush along the vein furiously pumping blood to his brain before Lovino pressed his fangs into Antonio's skin. He gasped at the sharp pricks, although they were nothing compared to the horrible pain ravaging his body, yet, an odd warmth dispersed from Lovino's bite, spreading to his fingers and toes.

It left him feeling drowsy, as if someone gave him too much medication. He failed to notice when Lovino's mouth released his neck, his hands now rubbing circles into Antonio's back and running along his spine. So strange... for Lovino to be acting so _kind_ to him, although, when he thought about it, the brunet had never threatened him, save for once or twice. Everything Lovino had done for him seemed to be out of benevolence, trying to make him better and even stopping his pains when they erupted along his skin.

_Antonio_ was the only one that had been hostile for the past few days. Anything Lovino did was a _response_ to the hatred that was directed towards him.

"Get your damn fingernails out of my shoulders."

He obeyed Lovino, wincing at how long it took to fully remove them, quickly tucking his hands against his chest but not moving away from the man-thing holding him. He wasn't willing to shift away from the only thing comforting him in his time of need, so he snuggled closer, utterly enjoying the pleasant warmth that the olive-eyed creature radiated. Antonio's sight was still little more than dark blotches upon searing white, which meant he was vulnerable to anything that Lovino may have wanted to do to him, but... strangely, he wasn't afraid; he was unusually calm with the smaller brunet massaging swirls into his skin. "A-Are you feeling a-any b-b-better?" Ah, was Lovino becoming embarrassed with the Spaniard so close to him? Strangely enough, he found this to be slightly amusing and even smiled a little into the man's clavicle. It was...

_Cute._

But of course, the pain wasn't as bad yet still very overbearing on his body. "A little." Came the hoarse voice from his throat, slightly stinging once he realized how dry it had become with all of his yelling and screaming, but it wasn't too irritating.

"T-Then get the hell off of me." Wasn't Lovino the one holding Antonio? The Iberian weakly pulled away from the brunet and leaned against the wall, closing his eyes so he could try to block out the harsh light filtering in through the windows as he felt Lovino stand up. Moments later, the faucet was turned on, followed by the ripping of a paper towel before everything was quiet again. Antonio flinched once the cold parchment licked at his face, wiping away the gunk that was surely there. "You made a mess, jerk." Lovino growled as he worked his way down to Antonio's chest and eventually his fingers, taking the time to individually clean each digit with gentle rubs.

"What happened to my nails?"

The tender ministrations momentarily paused, but continued as Lovino spoke with a soft, somewhat uncharacteristic voice. "They were replaced."

So... Those sharp black things replaced his nails? Why? The nails that he had before were perfectly fine, Antonio even took care of them more than some men did, taking the time to dig out the dirt from gardening with the dull edge of one of his pocketknives. "I don't understand."

"Of course you don't. Now, shut up so I can get this shit done." Antonio did as he was told, allowing Lovino to finish his task or wiping all of the blood away, grumbling something about how _he_ was the one who was supposed to be caring for the olive-eyed brunet. It was definitely odd, with such a mysterious creature looking over him as if he actually was concerned about his health and it left Antonio wondering why. What good would come to Lovino if Antonio remained alive? Why was he so determined to keep the Spaniard relatively healthy?

He did know that the parasite inside of him was probably the source of all of his pain, and that it could only mean that the thing was killing him, right? There wasn't any possible way that Antonio would survive much longer.

Not with the size of the parasite.

It only took Lovino a few minutes to finish washing off the blood from Antonio's fingers and toes, although he grumbled the entire time about this and that, letting a swear fall from his lips every few mumbles or so. Antonio found this way of communicating much more endurable than the insect-like clicks from before, so much that he found himself lost in the mild tone gracing his ears. Ah, but it was probably whatever Lovino injected into him making him think this way, yet Antonio didn't care. The pain was slowly draining away, all thanks to the brunet now trying to get the man to stand up.

Lovino led Antonio over to the couch, holding him up by throwing his arm over the smaller male's shoulder and rolling his eyes every time the human tripped over his own feet. Antonio felt giddy, breaking down into a fit of giggles when Lovino lowered him down onto the cushions, still grumbling to himself as the Iberian leaned to the side. He stared down at the chuckling Spaniard, and then kicked the man in the shin. "That's for earlier, you ass."

Antonio didn't feel the pain of the kick. He was far too busy staring at the ceiling from his nice perch on the couch, giggling and laughing at the tiniest smudges. He didn't even know why he found them to be funny either, he just wanted to laugh, and it made him feel better after all. So what was the harm? Besides, he still couldn't see anything more than dark blotches, so there wasn't much he could do without the possibility of falling over something. Lovino wandered off somewhere after the kick, leaving the Spaniard to himself.

Yet, only a few minutes later, and after a string of swears to his left, a weight sunk down into the cushion beside Antonio, hands grabbing a hold of his arm to force him to sit up straight. Something cold and wet touched his fingers, the skin of the thing a bit soft as he took it from whom he assumed to be Lovino. "Eat it."

"But I don't kno-"

"Just shut the hell up, and eat the damn thing!"

Not wanting to be screamed at again, Antonio did as commanded, finding that it was merely an orange slice that Lovino was forcing him to eat. And then another, and another, eventually leading him to believe that he ate half of the orange, which, for no apparent reason, made him want to laugh. "Why a-"

"It's the suppressant. Stop asking stupid questions." Hmm. How did Lovino know that? Ah~ well, he probably had his ways, but Antonio didn't really want to know right now. He was sleepy and desired nothing more than to take a nap on something nice and soft. Sighing, Antonio leaned to the side, coming to rest on what he assumed to be Lovino's chest, since the creature was apparently lying across the couch as well, with the arm of the settee as a makeshift pillow. "Wha- You- What the hell do you th-think you're d-doing?" Lovino roared at the brunet, shifting his legs in a futile attempt to get Antonio off of him, only for him to leave room for the Spaniard to settle between them quite comfortably.

"So warm~" Antonio hummed, snuggling as close to the man as he could. Whatever Lovino put inside of him was definitely making him feel dizzy now, but he ignored it as slumber quickly took over his body.

If he had been awake for only a few more moments, he would've felt Lovino run one of his fingers down his spine, each vertebra a tiny bit more swollen than they had when he first woke up that morning, and then an indolent thump on the head about four minutes later, for drooling on Lovino's stomach.

* * *

><p>After about a day's worth of furiously typing away on the keyboard, which left his fingers in a bit of pain, Gilbert finally had some of the files from <em>Eugenic Inc's<em> database. Although he didn't have many, he still felt accomplished for what he retrieved. The task took more energy than he originally expected, leaving him a bit tired and frustrated in the end.

But he had part of his prize. Now was not the time to pass out.

Cracking his neck and rolling his shoulders, Gilbert leaned back in his desk chair, sipping at the energy drink that was now room temperature as he clicked on the first folder, simply named _Project LISA_.Five extra folders popped up, each labelled a single word. With a sigh, he skimmed over them: _Queen, Rook, Bishop, Knight, _and_ Pawn_. Well _someone_ had a taste for chess, but now wasn't the occasion to make small judgements on what he could possibly find. As he knew with the other companies that he hacked, folder names, _if_ there were any, could be misleading or be a code name for something only the workers would know. So, with the only lead he had as the picture that his brother received, he clicked on the file named _Queen_.

Just like with the first, more folders came into his view, forty of them this time, each named with two capital letters and a series of numbers. Not knowing where to start, Gilbert selected a random file, only to find it completely empty. As he suspected, he didn't extract everything, so... Ugh. He'd probably have to work _more_ to get anything that could be called useful. Going back, he went down the list, each folder completely empty, allowing frustration to swell in his chest, growing larger and larger until he merely skipped over five folders at a time. Nothing. Did he really get nothing after all of that work? Thin brows furrowed over crimson eyes strained and burning from the lack of sleep, complementing the sneer forming across his lips. This was unacceptable. He clicked on the next, and then the next.

All empty.

Every.

Single.

One.

Of.

Them.

"_Scheisse_!" Gilbert threw his now empty can across the room, leaping up to pace around his room with his hands clutching his alabaster hair. Damn it all! This would be his luck; to work for _nothing_. He kicked the edge of his computer table, and hissed at the pain shooting up from his largest toe. A very _long_ break was needed, and a beer at that. Not bothering to lock his computer (like it would matter, Ludwig knew his password), Gilbert stormed out of the room, earning a glance from his brother as he hopped over the back of the couch, and plopped down onto the cushions.

"_Bruder_, it's bad for the couch if you do that."

Gilbert scoffed at his brother's words. Of course he knew that, it wasn't the first time West scolded him for doing _silly things_, and it certainly wasn't going to be the last. He ignored his brother, and focused on the television. News again, as Ludwig often watched this late, the kind that left the elder German bored to death. Why couldn't he like action movies or something? Groaning, Gilbert settled himself into the relatively soft pillowed on the arm of the settee, choosing to stare at the fan well above his head twirl its blades.

All of that work. For nothing.

He couldn't even begin to express how frustrating it was, nor could he rant about it to his brother. Ludwig, unlike his dearest brother, frowned upon such illegal behaviour, even though the only punishment he would give to Gilbert would be to take away his beer and magazines. Not to mention Franny was booked for the next month with meetings and Antonio _still_ wasn't answering his phone. A sigh escaped his mouth. He'd just have to finish this alone. Silence enveloped the two brothers, though it was broken when Ludwig softly cleared his throat, apparently asking for Gilbert's attention.

"Go on."

"Feliciano... have you noticed anything strange about him lately?" Gilbert's brows rose so they were hidden among the strands of hair grazing his forehead. Feli? Acting strange? It was unheard of! West was probably overreacting over something tiny that the sweet Italian had done.

"I'm sure he's fine, West."

"No, I'm sure that he's been less... _hyperactive_ than normal." Now _that_ was indeed strange. That man _never_ seemed to run out of energy, always bouncing off of the fucking walls, unless... something bad happened. Hell, the only time Gilbert ever saw the brunet not frothing at the mouth from so much damn liveliness was when Lovino disappeared.

He straightened himself up on the couch, facing his brother. "Do you know if anything happened?"

Ludwig sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose between his fingers. "That's why I asked _you_, _bruder_." That made sense. "He didn't eat much when I took him out to lunch, and his smiles... They were _forced_."

Wait. Feli not eating? Ludwig was right, there _was_ something wrong with the usually bubbly man, but it wasn't close to the time when Lovino disappeared. That was in the spring, _March _if he remembered correctly, and his parents were already dead. "You don't think its old man Romulus, do you?"

Ludwig shook his head, sighing and leaning back into his plush armchair. "No. Mr. Vargas is healthy. I saw him at the market only an hour ago."

"Did he say if anything was wrong?"

Another sigh escaped his lips, this one a bit longer than the other. "He said everything was fine."

"Cats didn't die?"

"No, _bruder_, they're alive." Well it was worth a try, but that left Gilbert out of ideas. If it was someone from the meetings, the news would've gotten to him by now, and Ludwig apparently had no idea as well.

Nothing much was said afterwards, so Gilbert decided to head for bed. Once again, he would have a shit-ton of work to do if he wanted to properly snoop around like a good concerned brother should, on top of trying to find what was wrong with Feli. Several pops littered the air as he stretched before taking off his shirt and pants. Sighing, he wondered if there would truly be anything worth finding in the pharmaceutical companies' database, or if it would all be trash. He bent over the back of his chair, preparing to shut his computer down, but paused when the final folder caught his eye.

**VL03116110**

Deciding to give one last shot for the night, he opened it up, incredibly surprised that a word document and video was inside. Now he was getting somewhere. Gilbert slipped down into his chair and began with the text document.

**_Date: 04-25-15_**

**_Specimen VL03116110 is_ _faring well. Development is optimal, lowering the probability of any complications in the adult stage. Intellect is acceptable, clearly showing preference with caretakers and ability to solve complex equations, with encouragement of course. Aggression may be an issue later on, but it is speculated that this can be corrected with conditioning._**

**_The specimen is suspected to be a great success, further pushing Project LISA to its later stages._**

Gilbert reread the document several times, not able to form any conclusions no matter how many times the words ran through his brain. What did any of it mean? He minimized the document, choosing to open up the video, hoping that it would provide any answers.

In the bottom corner, the date was labelled as the sixteenth of March, 2010. The time wasn't on the screen. It showed a nicely furnished room, complete with several expensive looking chairs, each a ruddy colour of crimson that matched the rugs below. Someone behind the camera was flipping through papers, mumbling to themselves before there was a knock at the door. The man, who sounded an awful lot like Alfred, told his visitor to come in. The person's shoes clicked against the small amount of flooring that they crossed, their face hidden by the dark shadows of the room, but Gilbert figured _he _was a man, merely from his body's shape.

"Please, have a seat." The man did as he was told, appearing to be somewhat nervous, although he hid it behind body language that suggested that he was more annoyed than anything. "I'm going to open the curtains, so it will be less formal." There was a slight swishing noise, and light engulfed everything, illuminating it where it was clearly visible to the German watching the video. His heart painfully pounded in his chest once he realized just _who_ was behind his computer screen.

It wasn't...

No...

It _couldn't_ really be him!

"So, Lovino. I'm guessing that you're here because of the ad?"

* * *

><p><strong>I must thank my 'editor' for helping me, even if you don't read this. It means a lot.<strong>


	6. You left me in the dark

**Last chapter, the project's name was cut from the text because FanFic thought it was a site. I have fixed this, but it was named Project LISA.**

**As I have said many times before;**

**Everything has a reason.**

* * *

><p>After pausing the video, Gilbert made a dash to close and lock his door, before frantically searching through his drawers for a pair of headphones. West didn't need to know about this, not with him worried about Feli. Although... Gilbert had the suspicion that his brother already knew about this <em>video<em>, with how many documents he had pertaining to the hands were already trembling with excitement and anxiety. Mostly fright, actually, but he forced his digits to head his command, directing the mouse over to the play button after slipping his headphones over his ears, and slipping back down into his chair.

Lovino scoffed at Alfred's casualness, and leaned back into the chair. He crossed his legs much like old man Vargas did when he was negotiating, hands folded neatly in his lap. His head slightly tilted to the side, the infamous scowl present on his face. "So what if I am here for that damn ad?"

A soft chuckle echoed in the nearly silent room. "Cranky as always." Lovino frowned, not at all amused by how friendly the American was behaving towards him. Chills ran down Gilbert's spine at the gleam in the man's eyes; desperation... he could easily read those olives like his brother's. They spoke the grumpy Italian's mind when his face remained a stoic mask over his thoughts, and that intense emotion that poured from those orbs terrified the German, even more so than the video itself.

Maybe with this, he could find the Italian and reunite him with his younger brother.

Leaning back into the chair, Lovino remained silent for a moment, eying the American sitting behind the camera before huffing. "Is any of it true?"

"Of course. Every word."

Brows furrowed over calculating eyes, flicking down to the desk for only a moment before they closed as he rolled his head back. He sighed, relaxing in the chair. "How long is the contract?"

"Five years."

"What kind of tests?"

"A variety; Pills, serums, powders, things like that."

He sat back up in his chair, pressing his hands together and lining the tips of his fingers to his lips. Whatever this was, there was a possibility that it could dramatically change his life. That is, if Lovino's wary habit was true to Gilbert's memory. "Are there possible side-effects?"

There was a moment of silence after Lovino's question, and Gilbert could easily see in his mind that Alfred was squirming in his seat, with the light taps of a pen against a book. "We don't know yet." A frown scrunched up Lovino's face. "But I can guarantee that they won't be life threatening." Alfred quickly added.

"Well isn't that reassuring?" Another sigh sifted through the brunet's nose, and his eyes returned to glaring at the American. They were weak... weaker than Gilbert had ever seen them in the many years of knowing the man. "If this works... the final product _will_ be sent to whoever I choose, right?"

"Of course. We will send it to whoever you want, no questions asked."

That stone cold mask cracked, exposing the uncertainty that was broiling under his skin and the depression that was fuelling it. "I-I still don't know." He mumbled, averting his eyes to the floor and shifting his legs. "What if the tests don't work, or the final product doesn't help hi-"

"Lovino, dude. I _promise_ you that he'll get _something_ to help even if the tests don't produce a... _cure_. Here," there was the faint sound of pen against paper, before that same sheet was offered to the Italian. "Since it's written on your contract, it will happen."

The brunet's eyes grew wide, his lips parting. "Twenty _thousand_ a month! There isn't any fucking way that you'll be able to afford this!"

"That's the cost of the medical bills each month, right?"

"Y-Yes, but ho-"

"Then it will stay at that, _and_, I will personally start sending it the first month of your contract."

The unruly brunet seemed defeated by everything, an uncharacteristic worried crease between his brows as he slipped the paper back onto the American's desk. "I want some more time... to think about it."

"That's okay. See me when you have made a decision, alright?"

Lovino nodded in agreement, biting at his bottom lip before he stood, only, he hesitated, opening his mouth as if he wanted to say something but then decided against it. Instead, he mumbled in thanks and crossed the room, exiting through the door in the back. Alfred huffed out a sigh, creaks echoing in the video as he shifted around in his seat. The video ended with a soft click.

What... what in the world just happened in that recording? It was probably one of the last times Lovino had been seen in the past five years, and it told him little about his current whereabouts. He even went so far as to watch the video a few more times, but nothing new came to his attention. Only how desperate and utterly _tired_ Lovino appeared stuck with the blond German, further driving the man to close out of the window and to continue searching for answers.

* * *

><p>Nightfall had already shrouded Antonio's home when he woke up, his head pulsating and mouth dry as he sat up from the couch to survey his surroundings. Still in his living room, he noticed, and his vision was no longer nothing more than blotches upon an impossibly white screen. It was a bit blurry, but he could clearly see anything at least a foot away from him. Though, he didn't spot Lovino anywhere in the immediate vicinity. Sighing, he leaned back into the plush cushions of his couch, then neatly curled his legs up and tucked his feet into the side of his thigh. He felt... strange. Sick, if there was a better way of putting it, but he couldn't exactly describe it. Warm, bordering on feverish was one of the qualities, and there was an odd tingling under his flesh, sort of feeling like something was constricting his skin, not allowing it to properly breathe. <em>At least I'm not in pain anymore<em>, he thought to himself, absentmindedly scratching his bare belly as he glanced around the dark room.

His nails tingled as they ran across his flesh, obviously much longer than he was accustomed to and _much_ sharper, several thin red lines left behind despite how lightly the tips touched his skin. Deciding that it was probably time to see how his body had changed on him, Antonio brought his fingers up so he could clearly see them. So long, they had become, easily double the length of what they had originally been, arched, serrated along the bottom and impossibly smooth on the top. Not only that, but they resembled cat-claws with the way that they jutted out of his skin, and among every small turn in the light, they glimmered like polished obsidian. He wondered if he could cut them down to the length that they used to be; nice and blunt with a slight roundness to the edges. Ah, but right now, he was still a bit drowsy and lightheaded from before, so he sighed and allowed his hands to flop against the couch's cushions as he let out a yawn.

"So you've finally got your sorry ass up." Antonio nearly leaped out of his skin when Lovino's voice painfully rang in his ear, even though it was barely a mumble. The creature offered him the same glare that seemed to be permanently tattooed on his face, and leaned on his arms propped up on the back of the couch, still shirtless and still covered with small smears of blood. While he was thankful for the brunet reducing his earlier pain, Antonio inched away from the man until he hit the arm of the sofa, trying to make himself as small as possible. Lovino simply rolled his eyes. From his face alone, Antonio would've guessed that he was irritated with the Spaniard's cautious behaviour, yet, with how tiny those glowing spots glittering on Lovino's flesh became, and how they flickered in a wave-like motion, morphing from blue to a dull red, he knew the creature was masking over something he didn't want him to see.

Lovino scoffed at the man, sneering as his legs snapped up, toes digging into the fabric of the settee before smoothly sliding down onto the cushion. Antonio could feel his weight sink into the couch, and even the shift of his body, legs overlapping each other, mimicking Feliciano's grandfather whenever there was something serious to be talked about. Of course, the only times he actually met the old man was the few times he had dinner with him and his younger grandson. Although... most of that time was spent yelling for his older grandchild to come downstairs, whom Antonio never had the pleasure of meeting. That was six years ago, and Mr. Vargas never called for the boy again after that first dinner, nor did he mention his name.

But now was not the time to be thinking of the past, with Lovino shooting daggers at him and sitting so close. The creature shifted his legs and propped his head upon his hand, still glaring and now growling at the Spaniard, all while tapping his lean, somewhat tapered fingers against his thigh. Looking down, he could see that the thing's nails were much like the brunet's, though they were considerably shorter than his and not a glittering shade of obsidian. His eyes failed to remain on his digits for long. They trailed up his arm, tracing the twinkling flecks of red imprinted along tanned flesh until they became sparse on the creature's neck, completely disappearing behind the tresses of cinnamon hair tickling his nape, before re-emerging on his cheeks. Medicated emerald soon met furrowed olive orbs, with Antonio failing to realize that he was staring at Lovino and Lovino at him.

The creature was the first to break from their trance, snorting as he sneered. "What the hell are _you_ looking at, idiot?" Just lovely. He wasn't awake for more than a few minutes and he was already being called names. Absolutely _wonderful_. While he wanted to come up with some sort of snappy comeback for the man-thing, a sudden twinge in his stomach silenced his words before they managed to scrape past his teeth, seething out as nothing more than a hiss. Lovino flinched as Antonio did, instinctively reaching out for the man.

But, he caught himself before his fingers brushed against the Spaniard's leg, jerking his hand back and huddling himself up in the edge of the couch. It wasn't like Antonio wanted him to touch him in the first place; every time those disgusting fingers probed his flesh, pain would swell in all of his nerves, eventually popping like tiny sacks filled with white-hot ooze when some kind of weight pressed down into them. Repulsive and horrid. That's all Lovino was to him.

Chilled tingles pricked up the hairs along his arms and legs, and a wave of nausea wrapped its slimy fingers around his throat. Ugh... what in the world did Lovino inject into him that morning? While it did leave him pain free for the entire day, he felt like crap now, obviously as a side effect of whatever Lovino's "_suppressant_" was. Not to mention those tiny slivers of fear were pricking at his mind once more. He wanted to leave the room, to get away from the creature glaring at anything but the man trying to press himself into the arm of the sofa. Lovino sighed, uncomfortably scratching at his clavicle as he gazed out the window, his markings weakly fluttering under the shafts of light painting his flesh pale. He just wasn't... god, Antonio couldn't properly think with that damn monster so close to him, but he was too afraid to budge.

He didn't care that the monster seemed to dislike him being in too much pain. It was he who put Antonio in this situation, in all of this agony, infecting him with these horrible, _horrible_ feelings of terror.

But, he couldn't, _wouldn't, _allow those emotions to control his life anymore. He was bigger than Lovino, meaning he should be able to overpower him if he was thinking clearly, and as long as the creature didn't have anything to leap off of so he could pounce the Spaniard, he wouldn't have the upper hand. At least, that was what Antonio assumed when he thought off the past times Lovino had jumped him. The only problem was the parasite that could take control of his body seemingly at will; if he could find a way to subdue the blood-sucking worm, he shouldn't have any problem at all defending himself against the glimmering brunet.

He'd just have to wait until his sight returned to normal before planning any kind of attack.

Another snort escaped the creature, causing Antonio's eyes to drift over to Lovino. His entire back was bared to the Spaniard, leaving his malformed spine vulnerable to Antonio's touch, especially his newly formed claws. He began to wonder, considering the violent reaction of the first night, if it pained the creature for anything to touch that column of bones, and with how sharp his nails had become, it would only take a weak scratch to leave the monster in the same distress that Antonio had been in for the past few days.

Yet, before Antonio blinked, Lovino glanced over his shoulder. As always, his brows were furrowed, and his lips were tugged down into a scowl. "What? Is there something on my face?" Lovino growled out, shifting again and crossing his arms. "I don't know what your fucking problem is, but you need to get the hell over it."

Really? Did he _really_ just suggest that he should get over that creature shoving who knows what into his body, and threw his days into nothing but waves of pain and fear! "_Excuse me_?"

Lovino scoffed. "You heard me, bastard."

Antonio felt pustules of anger bubble up under his skin, each nerve festering with a coiling vehemence. Lovino was tittering on a very fine string, and if he didn't watch that mouth, well, Antonio knew only the worst could happen. Never before had something so simple set him off. Hell, a few years back, he was physically assaulted by a man, and he wasn't nearly as furious with that stranger as he was currently with Lovino. Brows furrowed over darkening emeralds, the edges of lips curling down into a sneer as Lovino stared him down, obviously not willing to apologize for his overly rude words. "Would you care to say that again?"

"Are you fucking deaf? _Shit_, I thought I chose someone smarter tha-"

The next thing Antonio knew, Lovino was on the floor, clutching his cheek and gawking at the Spaniard as the back of his hand tingled with unleashed rage. How dare he... _how __**dare**__ he_ insult the man like that! "What the hell? You fucking bitch!" Lovino practically screamed at the fuming man, the details of his face blurred due to the distance between the two males, but all Antonio could see was red.

That monster had finally stepped on the Iberian's bad side, one that rarely saw the light of day.

"Get the hell out."

Those markings of his all but disappeared from his flesh, reduced to nothing the tiniest flecks of red along his cheekbones and arms, as his eyes widened, a look of shock materializing onto his now bleeding face. Yet, that gape soon hardened into a furious scowl. Lovino stood without a word, still glaring at the sitting male, that is, until he snorted at the man and walked off. While he would've preferred for the creature to leave his home, he turned and stomped down the hallway instead, straight into the Spaniard's bedroom. There was a soft bang, followed by a curse and then silence. Antonio ignored the urge to go see what the creature had demolished in his room, favouring his choice of curling up on the couch, with his back facing the outer lip and his arms overlapping on his chest.

There had to be _something_ he could do about the monster in his home. He ruled out killing him, since his body wouldn't allow him to do so and he would probably feel overly guilty about it afterwards. He could just kick the creature out, but then he'd probably go and infect someone else, possibly a child. No... no, Antonio didn't want to take that chance; he wouldn't be able to live with himself if he could've prevented the death of a young one. It was a never ending battle of choices, regrets and worries, each swirling along in his mind before rushing down into his stomach as an infestation of insects. Those chilly beetles scuttled under his flesh, biting down with needle sharp pincers along his abdomen as their feet scraped against his muscles, breaking his skin out into a cold sweat.

He hoped, dearly _prayed _that the pain wasn't coming back. Yet, more of those pricks stabbed at his nerves once he registered the soft pattering of rain on his shingled roof. Shivering, Antonio tried to ignore the frigid pelting sensation along his arms by huddling his limbs closer to his chest, but the feelings still slithered to the rest of his body. The throbs in his head probed at the back of his eyes and his inner ears, magnifying the drops of rain slamming against the ceiling to a screeching roar. He groaned, clamping his hands over his ears. Why... why did these things have to happen to him when he already was having a bad week? His heart still ached from the rejection of his long-time love, even though his mind was preoccupied with the creature that was trying to stop the organ from beating.

A low rumbled vibrated the home, muffled to a mere hum behind Antonio's hands, though the flash of light though his curtains illuminated the room for a brief second. It was ironic, this whole situation that playing out like some kind of horror movie. Night was the only thing that seemed to grace his eyes as of late; most of them blotched out by storms as a monster watched over him from the shadows.

Another blast of thunder roared through the small cottage, this one vibrating in Antonio's chest and shaking the metal utensils enough to make them clatter against each other. Antonio groaned at the pain bubbling up in reaction to the explosion of sound. Everything seemed to be against him these days, trying its hardest to cause him the as much agony as possible while isolating him from anyone that could help him, but it was his fault as well. He allowed this mess to happen, failing to do _anything_ to prevent it. He sighed, giving up on covering his ears. This was... well, he didn't know anymore. He couldn't begin to explain his spontaneous mood changes over the past few days, ranging from mildly horrified to burning with a terrible fury that raged across his flesh like a wave of coals. And that anger towards Lovino... when he thought about it, there wasn't any reason he could find that could truly justify his own violent actions. Twice, he had physically harmed the creature, and those alone forced guilt to coil in his heart.

He didn't understand.

Especially what happened that morning. He tried so hard to strangle the brunet, yet only minutes later, Lovino had willingly muffled the pain surging through the Spaniard's nerves and even allowed his assaulter to sleep on his belly. Yes, Antonio unfortunately remembered his embarrassing behaviour, and the one time he became conscious of someone running their fingers along his scalp a few hours later. He couldn't place the pieces together of just _why_ Lovino didn't fight back when Antonio tried to harm him. It was as if he _knew _that Antonio almost never acted as he did over the few days they had to live under the same roof. Or, was it something else? Did Lovino care for him so damn much because he had grown fond of him for some reason? What if Lovino _did_ admire him... Well, there would be something wrong with him for one thing. Who in the world would begin to _like_ someone who tried to kill them? It was absolutely absurd. Though, when thunder roared its loudest in his home, those thoughts briefly scuttled from his mind.

Almost immediately, Antonio heard loud thumps against his wooden flooring, light huffs of frantic breaths accenting the noise. There was only a split second between him registering what it was and a weight flopping down into the small space in front of him, arms tugging him into a tight hold as a face buried itself into his chest. With every loud boom that shook the house, Lovino flinched and tightened his grip on the Spaniard, his mandibles rubbing against his skin as they clicked against the creature's teeth. He was trembling, so terribly that Antonio could've easily mistaken it for a small seizure.

An odd feeling swelled behind his ribs, squeezing his heart with cold fingers that sent a tingle down his body and halted his breath. This... really wasn't happening, right? Lovino, of all the people, was clutching to him, seeking comfort during a particularly bad storm.

It reminded him of that frightened little worm that had coiled itself around his ankle only days before.

Wind howled against the windows, glass clattering against its neighbor as screeching maws tried so desperately to enter the household, further throwing the pitiful brunet into a panic. His grip was painful now, with his nails digging into Antonio's back, but he managed to ignore it. The muffled whispers flowing from the creature's lips like a broken faucet caught his attention, making everything else seem like white noise.

"_Make them stop... make them stop_! _Those sounds, those __**t-t-terrible**__ sounds... I- I don't want to remember_!_ Make them __**stop**_!"

Brows furrowed in confusion as the words continued to smear against his skin. What did he not want to remember? While Antonio partially wanted to bombard the man-thing with questions, he decided against it in favour of trying to comfort Lovino. Carefully wrapping his arms around him, and making sure to not drag his sharpened claws across his flesh, Antonio ran his fingers through Lovino's hair. If anything, he became a bit less tense under the Spaniard's slightly clammy touch and retracted his nails out of his back. The pulsating flecks along his body remained their ruddy coloration, flickering like a dying bulb, only to grow smaller with every rumble the skies threw down at the two. Antonio, now feeling even guiltier about his previous actions, cooed to the man. It was gradual, but Lovino seemed to relax under the soft hums of Antonio's voice, those markings of his steadily growing larger and larger, although they failed to gain the size they had whenever the creature was exceptionally content.

A small grumble of thanks met the Spaniard's ears when the storm calmed to a few light rumbles here and there, and the rain merely pattered against the roof as a soft, droning hum, though, Lovino continued to hold the larger male. It was strange... confusing, even, how Antonio was compelled to act so kindly to the brunet when he was frightened. He didn't fully understand it, somewhat feeling as if his body was once again moving on its own, even thought he _knew_ that he was the one directing his arms. His behaviour has changed over the past few days. It was a given, so apparent that _he_ noticed it.

So much anger, and fluctuations in his mood... Some if it had to be from the petrifying fear that blossomed under his skin, but the other half, he had absolutely no idea what was producing it. And now, there was something else threatening to spread through his body. It was nothing more than a small tingle at the moment, in the centre of his belly, but he recognized it, instantly trying to overpower it by the hatred he desperately attempted to keep alive. It was nothing but a lie, he constantly told himself, yet, while his mind fought to demolish those unwanted feelings, his body fully embraced them.

* * *

><p>Even after three days of hacking deeper into Eugenic Inc's database, Gilbert wasn't able to come up with anything on project LISA. He looked back into other folders as well, but there was nothing there.<p>

Sighing, the German leaned back into his chair, a hand idly scratching at the neglected stubble along his cheek, while the other powered his machine down. It needed to rest too, after all, and Gilbert was tired of having such a glaring light burn his eyes. Frustration scuttled up his back as another huff rushed through his teeth, laden with smoke from the fresh cigarette hanging from his lips. Smoking... heh, it was something that he dearly wished he had the will-power to quit, just like Toni had years before, but all of this shit drove his nerves insane and he needed _something_ as an outlet. Sure, West didn't appreciate it, but he didn't say much. He was almost never home after all, and as long as Gilbert kept the house clean, he didn't care what he older brother did.

Taking another drag on the tobacco filled paper, Gilbert rose from his computer chair with a groan from his throat and several painful pops from his back. His pants slipped down to his thigh before he caught them with a free hand, tugging them back up as he staggered out of his room. The hallway was oddly dim, despite it being well past sunrise, and the lack of noise indicated that his lil' bro was off somewhere.

Eh. He was alone, so Gilbert allowed the waist of his pants to bunch well below where they should've been. Such freshness greeted his loins, something that he only had the pleasure of enjoying when his brother wasn't there, and he had to say that he rather enjoyed the feeling of the cold wood under his feet as he made his way into the kitchen. He grabbed a bottle of juice from the massive cooling box, and after making sure that it was the carton clearly labelled with his name, he closed the door with his foot, already removing the cigarette from his lips.

Chilled orange juice sloshed around in his mouth before he swallowed it, sighing in content once he finished it off. Throwing the carton away, he placed the tobacco product back in its resting place and trudged into the living room, nearly stumbling over his drooping pants. Such a perfect morning already, save for the disappointment with the data. No one was home to bother him, it wasn't too hot and he had some orange juice. He truly was a man of simple tastes with it came to having pleasant morning, though not as much as Antonio; that man could wake up shitting glitter and rainbows, take two steps and then explode into a cloud of overwhelming bliss just from seeing the roses outside his window.

This was going to be a good day, at least he hoped. After finding the note West left him on the din's coffee table, stating that he would be gone for the entire morning and possibly the evening, he knew that he could probably catch up on lost sleep. Which actually seemed to be the perfect idea. Sighing as he scratched the disorganized tresses of alabaster perched on his scalp, Gilbert began his tired shamble back into his room, but, he paused once he heard shuffling outside the front door. Moments later, there was a knock. He considered ignoring it, pretending that he wasn't home so he could go back to sleep, but the person at the door was persistent, continuing to bang on the door despite the silence on the other side. Gathering up his pants and tightening the string that would hold them up, Gilbert decided to see what the person wanted, though it was done against his will and with a gruff snort.

Several clicks accented the slight annoyance in his blood as he unlocked the wooden barrier, swinging it open with the intent to chew out the bastard who interrupted his plans to sleep. Yet, upon seeing sweet chocolate orbs gaze up at him from under a tidy mess of cinnamon tresses, that anger melted away from his mind. Feliciano smiled at him, bounding forward to crush the German in a hug dripping with the sugary kindness that only the tiny Italian could produce. "Gil! It's so good to see you!"

Wasn't this a surprise? "Feli, what are you doing here?"

He backed away, tilting his head and widening that heart-warming grin he always managed to produce, though... something seemed off. It was like his brother had said before; his smile was forced. "Ve~ I was hoping that Luddy was home. Is he?"

Of course little Feli wanted to see his beloved one, it really didn't come as a surprise to Gilbert. "Sorry, little man. West left sometime this morning."

Such a gleam of disappointment broke that false smile upon the Italian's face. "Oh. Well...um. I'm sorry for bothering you."

"You aren't a bother." Gilbert quickly replied, not at all comfortable with sweet Feli acting so...well... not _him_. "Here, come inside and have a drink or something."

That false beam once again appeared on the man's lips, tugging them up as he thanked Gilbert and stepped into the home. "How have you been, Gil?" The brunet hummed once he took is customary seat on the couch, folding his hands together in his lap and smiling up at the German.

"Not bad, I guess... just had a lot of work." Hopefully, all of this shit with Eugenics would help find Lovino. Wouldn't that just make little Feli so happy? After all, that was probably the reason that the man seemed so down as of late. "Do you want anything? Water, tea, lemonade?" Feliciano shook his head, offering a polite answer of no before leaning back into the couch. He sighed, allowing only a brief moment of weakness to flash over his face, though Gilbert nearly missed it, for the second that it appeared, it was already gone. After extinguishing his cigarette in the class tray in dire need of a good cleaning, the German joined Feli in the den. "Is there anything wrong? You seem... I dunno... out of it, lately."

Feliciano twitched at the sound of Gilbert's words, gaping at him and furiously shaking his head in denial. "No, no! There isn't anything wrong!" Though, he still paused, gazing down at the floor as he held a few fingers over his lips. "I... just... I was a little worried about Tonio." His eyes flicked back up to the blond. "Luddy said that he wasn't answering his phone." Oh, the poor thing must've thought that it was his fault that Toni was currently being a hermit.

Gilbert chuckled at the man's silly idea. "Toni's fine. Franny went over there the other day. The broke bastard didn't get any sleep, so he probably thought the phones were giant bugs trying to eat him."

A little smidgen of relief pecked at the Italian's face. "So he's okay?"

"Apparently. Franny said that someone else was with him, but he never said who. Just some guy who never talked." It was strange, to Gilbert at least. Antonio rarely took other people into his home when he was depressed, save for his two best friends, but Francis said that the guy was taking care of the Spaniard. Feliciano still shifted uncomfortably in his seat, as if he was still a bit nervous and worried about the man. "Do you want me to try to call him?"

"Ah...um. Yes, please."

After reaching for the phone on the nearby end table, Gilbert typed in Antonio's cell number, hoping that he somehow had reception in his home. Though he normally didn't, sometimes Gilbert was lucky and was able to get through. And, much to his surprise, today happened to be one of those good days. There was a ringing on the other end of the line, until it stopped. He could hear someone yawn through his earpiece, followed by some strange clicking sounds. It must've been static, for they grew louder for a second before tapering off. "Hello?" More of that weird clattering responded. "Hello, Toni? You there?" Now an odd hiss rang in his ear, overlaying even more clicks before there was nothing. Pulling the phone away from ear, he saw that whoever had answered Antonio's phone had hung up, but he didn't let it bother him too much. It was probably Toni, but the reception was so bad that he couldn't hear the German on the other side, and that alone meant that the man was happy enough to converse with the outside world.

"What happened?" Feli asked once Gilbert returned the phone to its cradle.

"Eh? Oh, he couldn't hear me. Static was too bad."

"But he answered?"

"I think so." He honestly did. Antonio was very protective of his phone; after all, with it being a gift from a secret admirer, he _never_ let anyone touch it. It was nearly, what? Five or six years old, and _still_ in better shape than most phones that were only owned for a year.

Feliciano relaxed a bit more than before, smiling to himself before fixating his eyes at a random speck on the wall. "Say...um..." He began, fiddling with the hem of his thin dress shirt. "Do you... want to go for a walk? We could visit a museum or two if you get bored with that." Oh, how sweet and precious the man was, but the nervousness in his voice threw the German off. Never before had the man been so _anxious_ when asking a long time friend to join him for some sightseeing.

Just as Ludwig mentioned before... there _was_ something wrong with the Italian.

"Sure thing, wait here while I go get changed."

After Gilbert was in proper attire, they left for the Capital's long stretch of green in front of the Smithsonian, arriving within the hour. It was very nice outside today, with not a cloud in sight nor was the grass too soggy from the storms earlier that week. Feliciano brightened up as well, smiling at the children who passed by and humming a cheerful tune as he walked beside the blond, although, Gilbert wasn't too thrilled about noticing the lack of a bounce to the man's steps. None the less, the Italian chattered on beside the German. "So, do you think that big brother Francis will get together with Arthur?"

Gilbert let out a loud chuckle that startled one of the nearby couples. "Brows? Hell naw! That man is obsessed about Al. There isn't any way that Franny can get with him."

Well it was the truth, and everyone knew it. "I don't know..." Feli hummed out as he waved to some of the children staring at the two. "Sometimes things work out, you know?"

"Whatever you say, kid."

"Hey~ I'm as old as you!" Ah, that was right, wasn't it? He always envisioned the man to be younger, but the truth was that he was actually slightly older, if only by a few months. Heh, as if Gilbert would ever allow him to remember that.

"Yeah, yeah." His grumble was accented by a hearty chuckle as Feli gazed at the birds fluttering overhead, smiling and giggling once they soared past the two. Off in the distance, someone was strumming a tune on a guitar while someone else sung out a beautiful song with the stringed instrument. Distinctively Spanish, Gilbert could tell, and it was so lively that it beckoned him to dance with it. If only he could.

A cheerless smile overtook the brunet's lips, and he slowed to a stop. "Hey, can we sit for a while?"

Gilbert looked over his shoulder, his gut clinching at the sight of the melancholy man. "Yeah, let's rest." They chose a spot in the centre of the long stretch of grass, Feli lying on the ground while the taller male merely sat on his rump. The music was louder here, so much that Gilbert could make out that the woman was singing in Spanish, before switching over into English for what he assumed to be the chorus of the tune. Feli, on the other hand, looked as if he was about to cry.

"Did you know that _fratello _had a crush on Antonio?"

Wait- What? Gilbert gawked at the Italian, who weakly smiled at the surprise that was surely staining his face. "But Lovino only met the guy two days be-" He halted his words before they could do any damage, but thankfully, Feli didn't seem too broken from what could've been a very awkward situation.

Feli shook his head, a bittersweet smile stretched across his lips. "They met a long time ago... well, more like _fratello_ secretly watched Tonio while we ate dinner six years ago." A light giggle purred from his mouth as he sat up, wrapping his arms around his legs before he pulled them up to his chest. "He kept asking, '_Who the hell was that curly haired freak?_', and made me tell him everything that I knew about him." He sighed, resting his chin upon his knees. "It...was cute to see _fratello_ so head over heels for someone."

"Are you sure about that? I mean... he never seemed, well... the _type_ to chase after someone like Toni." This was insane! Lovino? With a _crush_ on _Toni_? There wasn't any possible way!

Feli hummed, closing his already drooping eyes. "It was obvious. It was the first time he would talk to me when it came to someone he liked... I guess it was because I knew Tonio." He remained quiet after that, idly fiddling with a few long blades of grass as Gilbert assumed he was listening to the music drifting through the air. He didn't understand why Feli was suddenly telling him this, nor why he was telling _him_ instead of someone like Ludwig or Kiku. Maybe they already knew and were asked to keep quiet about it. "When he heard that Tonio was going to come to the meetings," he continued after another sigh, "he was ecstatic. He was even to fussy about what he wore to the meeting."

"Yeah. He did look especially spiffy that day. I thought it was because it was your birthday or something."

Feliciano let out a short giggle, and turned his head to face Gilbert, the sweetest smile across his lips. "_Fratello_ was going to tell him how he felt that day, but he got scared and ran out right after he shook his hand." He looked to the sky, his skin somewhat paler than normal under the golden caress of the sun. "He was gone for the entire day." Feli's smile grew wider suddenly, much brighter than Gilbert had seen all morning. "But that night, when he came home, oh~ he was _so_ happy."

"Why's that?" The German asked as Feliciano once again gazed at him.

"He came here, and sat down in the grass." The Italian begun, pressings his fingers on the lush green below them, smiling as the blades tickled the insides of his digits. "Then, while he was trying to get over not talking to Tonio, he heard someone playing guitar, just like today." Feli plucked up a single strand of grass, twirling it in his fingers until they were stained with its juices. "Someone came up to him after that, and complimented the music."

"Who was it?"

He flicked away the blade, once again wrapping his arms around his legs. "Apparently Tonio decided to walk to the same place that day and he managed to find _fratello_, although he didn't recognize him."

What a shame. So it seemed Toni _was_ just as air-headed as people accused him of being, at least when it came to briefly meeting someone. "Was he mad?"

"No. Toni actually asked _fratello_ if he would dance with him."

"He did?" Why did Antonio never tell him about this? _This_ was something that friends tell each other, dammit! He was going to wring Antonio's neck the next time he saw him, for keeping such a thing from him!

"Mmhmm. _Fratello_ said that he had never met a guy with such warm and soft hands before." Ah, well his hands probably weren't that soft anymore. The guy picked up guitar after that, on top of building a garden for himself. "He told me that he'd fallen in love."

"Did he ever tell Toni?"

"Ve... no... He didn't. And, for some reason, that was the day before Tonio started to talk to _me_ a lot... and the day before...well. You know." The smile fell from his lips, and he buried his head into his arms. "I n-never saw him again after th-that m-meeting."

Feli's shoulders began to quiver as Gilbert could hear him sniffle. As a mere brotherly instinct, the German cradled the man in his arms, hands offering a comforting rub against his back and his scratchy voice trying to hum out something to calm him. From his closeness, he caught a whiff of rubbing alcohol coming from the inside of the man's shirt. He couldn't place why, nor did he care at the moment. Gilbert focused on cooing to the man he practically grew up with, carefully listening for anything that he might spout out in his moment of distress.

A good while passed before Feli was calm again. They decided to return home after that, with the Italian deciding to break off to his own rented apartment. The moment Gilbert reached the front door, he paused, noticing the letter taped to the wooden barrier. It was unmarked... no stamp... no address. Just a single glob of wax holding it closed. Taking it inside, he used a dull knife to cut it open. A small scrap of paper fell out of the envelope.

_**Gilbert, **_

_**It isn't safe for you to keep prying around in the company's data. You're lucky that I was the one who caught you, but I will let you get away with this. I warn you, if you keep going, you're not going to like what you see.**_

_**Stay out of Project LISA**._


	7. Now there's no holding back

9:00 p.m.

Antonio allowed a sigh to tumble from his mouth, his eyes stinging from the bright red letters radiating from the alarm clock resting on his bedside table. This was the third day in a row that he woke up later into the evening; usually sleeping through the day as if it was night, save for that morning, where his phone momentarily woke him from his slumber. He turned to his side, hissing once a jolt of pain shot down his spine, only to find that his bed was unoccupied, fingers of sunlight caressing the sheets instead of the body that normally greeted his wondering eyes with a scowl and huff. It wasn't like this was something new. Ever since Antonio tried to choke him, Lovino was always up before the Spaniard, usually doing something in the den or creeping around the perimeter of his home. For what, he didn't know.

Sitting up, a tingle scuttled through his hair as he gently scratched at the back of his head, tossing the damp, unruly curls into an even messier tangle. His fingers trailed down to the nape of his sweat soaked neck, pausing for only a moment at one of the bumps of his spine before slipping and flopping against his mattress. It was surely one of the cooler days during the month, but his body seemed hell-bent on overheating, clothes or not. It wasn't a fever, he'd already checked many times, and it always read that his body temperature was a little bit below normal. Another sigh seethed from his lips once he glanced back over to the ruddy numbers of his clock.

9:02 p.m.

Instead of properly getting out of bed, Antonio remained in his less than conformable seat, back hunched to prevent any type of pain to assault his already sore nerves, both hands neatly gathered in his lap with his fingers gently curling under the smothering layer of itching skin constricting every inch of his body. Decaying light probed at his eyes as it seeped through the shades covering his windows, drifting every now and then with the wind fluttering through the opened panels. Despite all of the atrocious scenarios that constantly fingered their way through his mind, this seemed rather... peaceful; just like he had woken up from a long afternoon nap.

No Lovino.

No parasite.

Just Antonio and the blissful quietness that tiptoed through his home on relatively cool summer days like this one, those peaceful sounds occasionally escorted along his walls by the melodies of the birds gathered outside his window. Hell, if he closed his eyes, this would easily appear to be such a day, but now, it was a mere distraction from the reality he had to endure; albeit a good one

Well, to be honest... Lovino hadn't behaved too aggressively to the Spaniard ever since that night with the particularly bad storm. He would only shoot numerous scowls at the man, grumbling under his breath as he did so, but a few minutes later, he would always tend to Antonio in some way; checking his sore joints, trimming down his nails (even though they would be fully grown by the next day), and many other such things. When he wasn't so, well, _caring_, he would behave as he did in the beginning. Curious nearly _all_ of the time, he had a habit of peering over Antonio's shoulder from the back of the couch like a cat whenever he was reading or rummaging through the house to see what he could investigate. And, as much of a surprise as he found it to be, Lovino was actually _tolerable_, when he was acting like a human, though a perpetually angry one at that. Dare he say it, but he found himself lonely whenever the creature was outside instead of creeping around his home. Maybe it was the fear of dying alone, or that he was just so accustomed to having people around him at all times, but either way, it was strange how calm he was whenever that choleric male was by his side.

Leaning back and resting his skull on the top of his headboard, Antonio let out a sigh through his nose before trailing his tongue across arid lips, only to huff once more as they continued to ache like the rest of his body under the numbness covering its surface. The corner of his mouth twitched, pulling down his brows into a furrow in an attempt to ignore the molten nails tearing swirling patterns under the skin of his arms and back. He cracked his eyes open, yet his flesh remained unharmed from what he could see; Just tanned skin, crisscrossed with hair and droplets of sweat.

"What are you doing, idiot? Get your lazy ass up." Antonio flicked his eyes over Lovino, who leaned against the door frame as he normally did when deciding it was time for the Spaniard to wake up, arms crossed and his usual frown set upon his lips. Brown stained the tips of his fingers, and several smudges of the same colour were painted along his arms and cheeks. Actually, make that his entire body. "We're going out."

"Out?" Lovino couldn't be serious. He was a living embodiment of a science fiction monster that _glowed_, and he wanted to go into a forest where hunters commonly prowled even when it wasn't the time to legally hunt for game. In reality, he should've just declined Lovino's demand, but, as always, it would lead to more anger and conflict between the two, and to be honest, Antonio really didn't want a bigger headache than he already had. "Where are we going?"

"Just shut up, and come on." With that, Lovino left his perch against the door frame, his feet softly patting the floor as he strolled into the den. Great, another night with Lovino in an ill mood, and Antonio began to suspect that the creature only had that one setting. Swinging his legs over the side of the mattress, he pushed himself up to a stand, a soft hiss escaping him as piercing needle-like sensation tickled up his calves and swirled in the centre of his belly. Antonio tried to ignore them, along with the tightness that enveloped his skin with every stretch he made in an attempt to loosen up his stiffened joints.

_It's gotten worse. _He moved over to his windows, snapping them shut one by one with a soft click. A jolt of pain shot down his spine. _I thought I was just imagining things._ Surely, he still was, right? Not to mention, ever since the day before, he could've sworn that he saw shadows slithering past the corner of his eye, especially during the moments he could barely move. How annoying... but at least he could get some fresh air if he complied with the bossy creature, and perhaps, if he had a chance, he could try to escape once more. _But if I did get away, where would I go?_ It wasn't like someone wouldn't notice his nails, or how hard his skin had grown under the tanned outer layer. He tapped his fingers against the wooden beams of the window, gently gnawing at his bottom lip. Perhaps, like he hoped before, Gilbert would take him in, which brought up the possibility that Ludwig could find some kind of "cure" for whatever was affecting the Spaniard before it spread too far into his system, but what would happen to Lovino?

"Hey!" Lovino's head appeared in the doorway, brows furrowed over misleadingly irritated eyes. "What's taking so long?"

"Can I put some clothes on?"

His frown deepened. "What the hell is wrong with what you're wearing?" Antonio sighed, knowing somewhere in the back of his mind that it would be best to just follow Lovino.

Without putting on a shirt, he followed the brunet into the hallway, relying only on the charred beams of sunlight filtering in through the closed curtains to see, although those few streams alone were still overkill. The front door slid open without the slightest sound, not even the tiny click that indicated the door was locked, allowing the two to quietly exit the small home. Antonio closed the door behind them, hand lingering on the handle as thoughts ran through his mind.

This would be the first time he left the house for about three or four days, right? He should he happy, _blissful_ even, but all that he could pull from the core of his heart was utter dread. Something unnameable combed its icy fingers through his nerves, feeling as if it froze the beaded sweat to his skin like glue.

It wasn't safe out here.

"Why are we leaving?" His own voice startled him with how _shaken_ it was, literally clawing its way from his throat and leaving behind a pulsating soreness.

"What?" Lovino spat as he spun around, cursing at the rock stabbing into his foot. "Fuc- Don't tell me you'd rather be in that stuffy place!" Stuffy? It wasn't that bad. He growled, baring his teeth to the Spaniard. "Well fine!" Lovino pivoted around and began to stomp off to the west. "I'll just go by my fucking self!" He really wouldn't' go out into the forest without Antonio would he? He didn't know his way around, and, for some reason, the Spaniard suspected that he would chicken out at some point, surely crying as he waited for the green-eyed male to "rescue" him...Right?

Oh. Nope. There he went, just stomping on, nearly leaping a foot into the air at every sound the forest threw out at him, or every time he slammed his heel down on a pinecone.

Antonio really couldn't leave the creature alone, nor did _he _want to be by himself right at this moment either, so he quickly caught up to Lovino, inwardly chuckling under his breath when the smaller male screeched from the light touch of Antonio's hand. Lovino slapped at him, making the most adorable fac- No! He mustn't allow such things to creep into his mind, especially thinking that the creature was _cute_.

From behind, Antonio stared at the back of Lovino's head as they walked deeper and deeper into the wooded area, determined to ignore the screeches of the forest and the fluttering birds overhead, which could swoop down at any moment and... What the hell was he thinking? Would a bird really dive-bomb the two? Well, the mothers may, but that was another thing. Such silly thoughts managed to slither into his mind tonight, much stranger than normal, considering the circumstances. But why, or rather, _what_, was causing all of these strange instincts to flood his senses, if he could even call them that. Lovino grunted when Antonio walked into him, yet, instead of spinning around and sneering at the Spaniard, his vision remained fixed ahead, his emerging markings flickering a pale blue under the faint red of the distant sunset.

There was a flash to Antonio's left, brief, but long enough to send a chill down his spine. Then, there was another, and then another, some in the thickening grass and a few in the air. _Fireflies? At this time of the year?_ Antonio stepped forward, taking a spot next to the slack-jawed brunet, eyes wide with amazement. They were _everywhere_, flicking their lights in and out like twinkling stars, and they called to the Spaniard, trying desperately to draw him closer so he would join in their dance.

"What are these... things?" Lovino's voice was small, dripping with awe as he stepped forward, one arm extended towards the nearest beetle, all while markings imitated the glimmering of the tiny bug. It landed on the tip of his finger, electing a faint gasp from the male before flicking out its wings, joining the rest of its kind in the air. Olive eyes followed the movement of the bug, captured by the gracefulness of its flight and the beautiful glow it radiated. He really couldn't believe it. This creature, supposed _monster,_ was baffled by such simple bugs that snared the imagination of children and perhaps some adults. Lovino's attention suddenly shot over to Antonio, a flurry of emotions swirling in his eyes, although Antonio recognized most of it as annoyance and confusion. "Bastard, what _are_ these things!" It was little more than a hiss that breached his lips.

"They're fireflies." In the corner of his eye, Antonio could see Lovino mouth the word before snapping his eyes back to the hovering beetles. A smile wormed its way onto his mouth, lips slowly spreading to reveal pearly teeth. How jubilant he was, all because of these tiny creatures, and it was simply something that the Spaniard never would've guessed to be. He couldn't help but to smile as well. "Do you like them?"

"Yes." The answer was almost instant, yet not a second later, Lovino flinched, all signs of glee missing from his face as a sneer was shot towards Antonio. "No! W-Where the fuck would you get some stupid idea like that?" Ah, how adorable. While the markings along his skin swelled in brilliance and size, his face flushed a furious red, especially along his cheeks. "Come on, you fucker," he growled, seizing the Spanish brunet by the wrist before tugging him deeper into the forest "Let's get this shit done."

Antonio let the smaller male drag him wherever they were going, finally feeling a little better about being outside as the cool grass and mud enveloped his toes, squishing under his weight pressing down on the green sprouts. Such strangely beautiful sights graced his eyes once he allowed them to wonder the treetops, his sight managing to pick up the slight forms of animals sleeping amongst the limbs. It was truly more peaceful than he could ever imagine. A tiny smile broke across his lips, his eyes trailing down from the luscious green leaves to the back of Lovino's head, eventually down to the back of his neck, and then... the-...

Wha...

What was that? Th-That white stuff sprouting out from Lovino's spine? It was like infant ivory roots, just beginning to branch out its fingers in search for water before dipping back down into the male's skin. They too held glimmers of blue like the rest of the protruding bones, though those were now white as well, completely free of the flesh that layered them only a day before. They seemed to be _smoother_ as well, more like layers of metal on the back of a suit of armor. How did he miss that, or... did it happen while he was sleeping? Did he even know that it happened at all? Did it..._hurt_?

A sudden jolt sparked its way down his own spine, surging down to his legs then burying itself in his calves. He bit back a shriek, trying his best to make nothing more than gasps that seethed through his nostrils, but thankfully, Lovino didn't hear him. The other male just kept stomping on, although he was less tense than he was only minutes before, which Antonio guessed was a good thing. It wasn't very often that the male wasn't on edge about _something_, whether it be the pains that the Iberian constantly suffered through, or whatever ran through his cryptic mind. So, maybe... if Lovino wasn't worried, or didn't bother to notice this batch of needles scraping down his nerves, he shouldn't fret too much about it, right? It really couldn't be that bad, at least that was what he hoped, yet a smidgen of worry stained the deepest crevice of his mind. Out of everything it could possibly be, he prayed that it had nothing to do with his pains over the past few days.

Even though he didn't want to, his eyes focused themselves on Lovino's spine, still trying to figure out what happened to the man's body, but eventually, he forced his sight back to the direction they were walking. The trees were thinning a bit, and the earth dipped down into a gentle slope of luscious grass soft dirt with a small stream engraved into the earth. Such a breathtaking sound, that running water, sloshing against the glimmering rocks lining the bank, catching the light over the twinkling stars overhead in every tiny ripple. Lovino released the Spaniard, his pace slightly faster while he trying not to trip over his feet as he drew closer to the creek.

"How did you know this was here?" Came Antonio's words before he could stop them from escaping, but they were ignored in favour of the water. He remembered this creek well. After all, Gilbert literally tossed him into the water, not knowing of the sharp rocks that jutted out from the seeming smooth bottom. Antonio still had the scars on his legs, and one on his elbow.

It took a minute, but once Lovino's feet were planted in the unquestionably chilly water, the hems of his dirty pajama bottoms soaking up the liquid, he twisted back around, his lips and brows once again forced into a scowl. "I found it, idiot." Antonio carefully stepped down to the edge of the brook, watching Lovino rinse the grime off of his arms.

"You could've just taken a shower, you know."

Lovino's head snapped up, and Antonio could've sworn that he spotted a twinkle of fear behind the stern frown. "Fuck you, asshole." His actions became harsh, nearly so that the Spaniard was fearful that he would scrape the skin clean off of his bones.

At least it wasn't too damp where Antonio plotted down, and the water swirling around his toes cooled down the rest of his overheating body. A grateful sigh clicked from his throat as he closed his eyes. It just felt so nice, ah, yes~. So blissful, so lovely. Perhaps from now on, whenever he gets too hot, he would take a cold shower to cool off his skin and to wash off the grime and dirt that collected between baths. He could even play with the short tufts of grass on the very edge just like he always did when he was a child back in Spain, each blade tickling the skin on the insides of his fingers and staining his palms a faint green. Smiling, Antonio gently laid back, absolutely loving the sharp pricks of the grass across his aching shoulders, though the sensation seemed, well... How could he put it? Muffled? Or would numbed be a better word? It was like a thick piece of plastic separated his nerves from the grassy earth. Anyway, it provided him relief and a distraction from his aches, so overlooking that detail didn't seem too bad.

Snowy specks on a moonless glob of everlasting ink greeted his eyes when they creaked back open. "Hey," he breathed out of his grin, "Look up. Isn't it pretty?"

"What?" There was a pause in Lovino's movements. "What the hell are you rambling on about now?" Antonio glanced down at the scowling male, somewhat delighted that the dirt had been smeared away, allowing every minuscule fleck along his cheeks to visibly shimmer like the fiery orbs overhead. Yet, as the Spaniard opened his mouth to speak, his voice became lodged in his throat, managing to escape only as a squeaking gasp. "H..Hey..." Lovino whispered to the gaping man, swiftly leaping up onto the bank like a feline on all fours.

Antonio clamped his mouth shut, metallic tasting teeth grinding against each other, and his fingers burrowed themselves into the earth.

"W-What's wrong?"

His head snapped back, doing everything he could to ignore the tension building up in his body. It was coming; he could _feel_ it tingling down his back with pointed claws, building and building, and building ever more, ready to implode at any moment.

"Anto-"

_CRACK_

* * *

><p>"Well...," he glanced over his shoulder to the man sleeping in one of the two cots, sighing as a loud snore could be heard. "This is the end of my first day, I guess. Food's not too bad, but it's boring as hell here. No television, and they won't give me a damn pencil or a notebook. Fucking assholes. Then they tell me I have to do this dumb shit every week."<p>

Tingles of dread skittered across the lips of Gilbert's nerves, each tickling him with a flurry of emotions every moment he watched one of the new files that he uncovered from Eugenic Inc.'s database. Labelled _VLPE1103117110_, this video held what seemed to be just a small personal entry from Lovino, who apparently just moved into his new "room" inside of the buildings Eugenic Inc. owned. From what he could see past the Italian's head, it looked to be scarcely furnished but everything else radiated elegance. Dark mahogany walls accented with light gold pouring from the sconces, flowing down to meet the royal scarlet carpet embroidered with copper. The room lacked curtains or windows, honestly making it seem more like a prison cell than an apartment, if that was an appropriate name.

"This fucking sucks." Lovino ruffled his hair and propped his head on his knuckles. "That guy over there has been sleeping all damn day, and he looks sick as fuck. I better not get something from him." There was another snore in the background, followed by a jarring cough. A sigh escaped Lovino. "I talked to him this morning. He said he was here for someone too: his mother, or something. Said that she had something the doctors couldn't fix, but he wouldn't say how long he's been here."

Gilbert paused the video, and stared at the man whose eyes were fixated on the table. They were strong, that admirable fire still burning behind the acrid olive glass, and undying resolve for _something _left only as a mystery to the German watching the entry. He leaned back in his chair, arms crossed and a cigarette hanging from his lips, the last one of the evening he hoped. Nearly ten at night, he pondered if he should continue the next morning or finish it all now. Sighing, he switched to another window, this one holding the other files he managed to find that day, these _much_ easier than the other ones. Consisting of two videos and a single text document, Gilbert wondered if they would actually help lead him to the current condition of Lovino. After a few minutes, Gilbert opened the single new text and waited a few moments as it loaded.

_Date: 02-14-14_

_Specimen VL03116110 is not advancing as well as planned. Its health has declined dramatically and has developed several conditions, including shaking, incoherence, twitching and rigidity. These symptoms go unnoticed by the specimen. It is unknown if these are the symptoms of an underlying condition produced by the tests or a disease that the subject held previously to admission into the program. There is a possibility that the latter is true, due to the reason the specimen gave to answering the flyer and agreeing to enter the program, but this is not a credible basis to stop the tests. _

_There has been a considerable increase in the subject's aggression towards many of the personnel, except for two. It is unknown if this is because of any previous relations or if the specimen has grown fond of [REDACTED] due to increasing interactions. Intelligence has remained constant with initial admission, although personnel must force the specimen to participate in tests of any kind. This will be closely monitored, along with any further changes in behaviour. _

_VL03116110 is scheduled to be transferred into another room on the third floor and it will be placed in isolation to assess the behaviour of the specimen without contact with other specimens and personnel. Under the orders of the new sector leader, this will be the permanent housing for the specimen between tests. It is suspected that the subject will continue to [DATA EXPUNGED]_

Wait, that was _it?_ How the hell was that possible? The file was a hell of a lot larger than something with an equivalent amount of words. After reading several more times and closing the document, Gilbert stared at the screen before sighing and leaning back in his chair. None of it made any sense nor answered any of the questions he desired to know, further exasperating him more than he already was. Someone had tampered with this file, not only evident by the missing information, but the fact that the last time it was modified was early that morning. Flicking ash off of the end of his cigarette into the nearby tray, Gilbert switched back over to the open video, sparing a moment to stare at the seemingly healthy Italian before clicking play.

Lovino ran his fingers through his hair once again, glancing over his shoulder before folding his arms on the surface of the desk. He rested his chin against his arms. "He said that we were the same. I don't get it." A sigh bubbled through his lips and he closed his eyes. "He also said that there would be a lot of tests, and that he hasn't talked to his mother ever since he got here." He buried his head into his arms. Gilbert could barely hear what he mumbled out. "Did I make the right choice? Will this really help you?" Lovino leaned back, blinking and staring up at the ceiling, eyes blurred with tears. "God, I'm already doubting this. Fucking hell." He wiped away the tears with his palms. "Of course this shit will help, but...," trailing off, he held his head in his hands, "I won't see you again for a while. And, I guess that I'll miss you, even if you don't see this." Once again, he leaned forward. "Stay well, and don't let the fucking Potato hurt you, okay? _I love you_, you whiny idiot, and I'll find a way to make you get better." There was a click, and the video ended.

Well that didn't help much either. For something that was so easy to get, they really failed to prove anything. How aggravating. Grumbling several curses under his breath, Gilbert closed the video, tapping his finger against his mouse in annoyance in the same tempo as his foot against the floor. A hiss rang out into the air. "Fucking great." Gilbert forced himself out of his chair with a grunt, shoving the cigarette butt into the tray before stomping over to the window and peering out of it with a sneer. Empty. Only the flickering light of an old industrial lamp lit the sidewalk and a rusted chain link fence. He couldn't even see the stars from the light pouring from the city, blotching out the sky with a pale glow and a low-lying mist streaming the absurd amount of vehicles lining the streets. Snorting to himself, he flopped down onto his bed, the sweet smell of fabric softener flooding his nostrils with every drawn out breath.

_I wonder how Toni is doing..._ _The_ _broke bitch has terrible reception in that log house of his._ Gilbert groaned under his breath and sluggishly dragged his face across his mattress, eyeing his phone on the desk. He _could_ try to call the Spaniard again, but he really doubted that he would be awake at this time of the night. Hell, the nimrod would normally pass out the moment the sun lowered itself below the horizon and _nothing_ would be able to wake him up until morning. But, he _needed_ to know himself that Toni was okay. He reached up to his table, fingers barely grazing the edge of his phone, but with a grunt, he managed to make it topple over into the floor, just out of his reach. God, why?

Gilbert groaned as he pushed himself off of the bed, sliding down face forward into the floor, not caring at all that his ass was sticking up in the air and his chin was digging down into the wooden beams. He shifted his arms so they could correctly move, grabbing the electronic device that was scratched beyond repair. It lit up once he tapped on the screen. He pulled up his messaging program, and searched for Toni's name in his past messages, not at all surprised that the last one he got from the man was an hour before their last meeting together. Several clicks echoed from the tiny speakers as he typed, and a joyful tone rung out when he sent the message.

Well now that was done, perhaps he could go to sleep now. That last video could wait until the morning, right? Heh. Right. Even though he was beyond frustrated with anything that he could consider something that would lead him to Lovino's whereabouts, there was always the chance that this video could be the _one_, or at least something that could show him exactly what those damn tests were. After pulling himself up into his chair with what little grace he had remaining for the night, he allowed the cursor to hover over the file, _SF879VL03116110._ God, what the hell were these people thinking when they named these damn things? Ugh. It made him not want to look at it at all, but he _had_ to. It opened up after a quick double click and instantly began to play.

Silence... and what seemed to be an empty room flickered onto his screen, this one much different than the one Lovino was in during the last video. It was barrenly _empty_. No furniture, no carpet... just whatever cold material the room and floors were constructed of, and dark smears splattered here and there, not one of them on the wall over what an average man could reach. In the corner of the video, the date read _JAN 2_ in bright green letters, but the year was blurred out. Gilbert leaned forward, trying to make out the details of _anything_ that could be in the room, clicking his tongue in annoyance. Giving up with that, he jammed his headphones over his ears and turned the volume up to its highest level. But there wasn't anything... _Nothing_. Great! _Another_ useless piece of shit that only took up space on his computer! He chucked his mouse across the room, and watched it shatter upon slamming against the wall, every single nerve boiling over with the rage fueled from his failures.

_...Do...n't..._

The sound vibrated in his ears, nothing more than a tiny, breathless whisper, forcing his eyes to snap back to the screen. Still nothing... just an empty room.

_...Please... s-s-stop...it hurts..._

He could hear desperately silenced weeping between the whispers, then a crackle in what he assumed to be an intercom.

_**We must continue the tests.**_

He... He recognized that voice, but who the hell was it?

_No! No... please... no m-more..._

Oh how much weaker the voice had become, a sorrowful cry pouring from the person's lips. So much pain radiated from it, sending a chill down Gilbert's spine. It was like _nothing_ he had ever heard before. This person... they were _dying_.

_**I'm...sorry, but orders must be obeyed.**_

The lights suddenly snapped on with a deafening metallic thud much like thunder, but just as the man let out a blood-curdling screech, the video cut out to static, sending Gilbert's heart into a panicked race. Using the keyboard, he frantically tried to get the video to the last frame, and after fighting with it for a few moments, he succeeded, but instantly wished that he didn't.

A shriveled up excuse for a human laid curled up in the corner, completely naked and scratching at their face, trying to block out the intense light. Pale, sickly skin stretched across their bones, dipping down into the crevices of their ribs, appearing as nothing more than a fleshy skeleton with tangled, chocolate hair. Splatters of red stained the person's skin, caked into a deep brown around their fingers and toes.

What... what horrible things was this company doing to people? Was this really the result of the tests for producing a cure for illnesses? It couldn't be... no. West worked for that damn company, and Gilbert _knew_ his brother would never torture people for absolutely no meaning. He _was_ better than that. He refused to replay the video, quickly closing it out as he felt stomach churn, trying to force its contents into his mouth. This was surely just the _result_, and judging by what he had seen, oh god... the tests themselves...

He was terrified to see them.

* * *

><p>This was bad... Holy <em>fuck<em>, that was a _terrible_ understatement. Lovino had no idea what the hell he should do. It shouldn't have happened this quickly, oh _god_, it should've been much, _much_ slower than this.

Antonio, that poor fucking bastard, he was screaming his head off. He screeched and wailed, jerking with every sickening crack, lurching forward with every squelching crunch that poured from his spine as his nails clawed at the earth, eventually ripping handfuls from its kin. Antonio couldn't breathe between his shrieks, each coming one after the other as he arched further and further off of the soil, legs writhing in the sweltering pain erupting in the core of his body. Lovino panicked, having jumped forward the moment it started and pinned him down by his shoulders, trying as hard as he could to quiet the man, but it was futile. The horrible yells only grew more frantic as the man eventually tried to push Lovino off of him, completely ignoring every worried hiss shot at him and every click of Lovino's mandibles against his own teeth. Another loud crack shot a nauseating flinch through the olive eyed brunet, and an even louder scream pouring from blood and tear splattered lips.

He had to do something. Seeing Antonio in _this_ much pain... god, it killed Lovino. Those tears and those screams, oh, they were atrocious; drilling a painful hole straight into the brunet's heart, but dammit, there wasn't a fucking thing he could do this time. Lovino could only push him down into the earth and watch on like a helpless whelping, all while enduring the lashings the Spaniard managed to land on him with re-grown talons.

Eventually, Lovino had to shift his weight to hold down the writhing man, unfortunately straddling him in order to keep his legs under control as well. He shouted to Antonio every now and then, trying to break through the mist of pain that surely engulfed the poor fool's mind, yet the responses only grew more aggressive with each passing minute. The screeches turned metallic, tapering off into hissing clicks before starting anew, each worse than the last. There simply wasn't an end to it, at least with trying an equally belligerent approach. He needed to stop this... It was too heartbreaking for him to watch any longer.

"Antonio." Lovino carefully moved one of his hands closer to Antonio's neck, thankfully bracing himself for when the larger male jerked his arms up, nails digging deep into his shoulders. He hissed at the pain initially, and tried to ignore it, trailing his fingers higher until it brushed against the bastard's cheek. He attempted to pull away, but Lovino's weight held him down as he leaned down. "You fucker, _listen_ to me." No response. Lovino whispered again, yet the reply was the same; screaming, yelling, and writhing. "_Please stop... I don't want to see you like this._" Nothing he did, not even pressing their foreheads together, could get the man to calm his blinded rage. He... he would just have to suffer through it, and all that Lovino could do was to keep him from further destroying his delicate body. As carefully as possible, hands slipped under Antonio's shoulders, gently grazing the top of the man's exposed spine before palms pressed against the blades on both sides and pulled up. Lovino's chin found itself in the crook of the wailing male's neck, and now, he could hear every minute pop from the shifting bones. A single, final crunch resonated from Antonio's spine. The Spaniard lurched forward, throwing the two into more of a sitting position and digging his nails into Lovino's back. He clung to the smaller of the two, blubbering out nonsense into his ears between the tears that smeared against lighter flesh.

Lovino bit back his own hiss of pain, pulling the man closer. "Shhh, shhh. It's okay. It stopped. It's over now." Right, but he couldn't let the poor bastard know the truth of the shit that was to come, unless Lovino wanted to deal with him like he was only a few days prior. Even though he was fond of him from the beginning, unavoidably because of _that_, he much preferred the Spaniard when he wasn't completely off of his rocker, closer to the way his mind pictured him.

"W-Wh-at's h-h-apening to m-me?"

A frigid chill washed over Lovino's body, tingling at his nerves before swirling into his clinched stomach. He couldn't tell him... It would be too much for the already broken man to take. "Nothing." Lovino allowed one hand to thread through Antonio's sweat laced curls, drawing him closer before he rocked him back and forth ever so slightly, hoping and_ praying_ that the minute gesture could help. "You'll be fine." God, he was shaking so fucking much. It was like he had hypothermia or some shit like that. Lovino peered down the sobbing man's back, clearly able to see what was causing him so much misery, and fuck, did it make him feel absolutely terrible, but at the same time, a wave of primal reassurance tiptoed through his mind. Antonio would survive, and he would be _strong_, much sturdier than those weak fuckers the other creatures like Lovino created.

"I-It hh-h-urts... so m-m-much..." The Spaniard tried to pull Lovino closer, seeking comfort in the heat of another. Much to his delight, the larger male retracted his nails from his back, using the pads of his fingers and palms to keep Lovino against him as he buried his nose into his shoulder, his harsh, quaking breaths washing against tingling flesh.

A sigh clicked from his throat, tapering off to a hum once he tucked his mandibles back into gums. "I know, I know." He needed to get the man back to his home, somewhere _safe_, but right now, there wasn't any possible way that he could move Antonio without causing him more distress. "Hey." Antonio tightened his grip, biting back another groan. "_Hey_, does your stomach hurt too?" He could feel Antonio weakly shake his head no. Good... that was good. The possibility of rejection was lowering, which, in turn, _should_ lower the amount of pain that the idiot would have to suffer through. Lovino fingered through Antonio's hair, gently rubbing his scalp with his nails. "Listen, I can't stop the pain this time," he whispered in the man's ear, cringing as he coughed out a gasp, "so you'll have to tough it out. Can you do that?"

With a shaking body, Antonio backed up, tightly clinching to Lovino's shoulders. He peered into the brunet's olive eyes, such a fierce glare of determination set onto his face. "Y-Yes" Antonio narrowed his eyes, faint red dots flickering on his cheekbones. "I _can_."


	8. My blood is ringing with your voice

**This chapter is just... well you see. As random as it might seem, it _does_ serve a purpose. Everything in it does.**

* * *

><p>They didn't bother to turn the lights on when they returned to Antonio's house about two hours later, once his back stopped hurting enough that he could stand up and walk towards his home. Lovino acted as a crutch the entire way, grasping to the hem of his pants and refusing to let the Spaniard stumble on by himself, even go far as to open the door for him. A gruff exhale rushed from Antonio's lips the moment he relaxed on his couch, face down with his legs hanging off of the arm of the settee and one hand grazing the floor below. Not nearly as cool as it was outside and terribly stifling, he could already feel the heat re-igniting in his body, his skin sticking to the leather couch with every drop of sweat that gathered on his chest.<p>

Emerald eyes gazed at the other male that collapsed in the plush chair opposite of him. "Thank you." Lovino's attention snapped up to meet Antonio's weak smile before quickly focusing on something on the wall.

"Whatever, fucker." Ah, how cute his little pout was, one lip poking out below the other, cheeks flushed a faint red. Antonio couldn't help but to stare at him, somewhat captivated by Lovino's markings that flickered such a pretty silvery-blue, much like the fluttering heart of a flattered adolescent. Eventually, Lovino noticed the pair of eyes trained on his body, and shifted in response, frowning as he bared his back to the male. "Stop staring, you fucking creep."

Oh... how did he not notice? A short apology sputtered from his lips in embarrassment, eyes darting to something else in the room, before closing. Not much was said after that. Only the ticks of the kitchen clock tapped against his ears, igniting a pressure behind his brows that welled up with every minute that passed, eventually leading up to two or three hours. Lovino remained quiet over this time, barely moving at all, from what Antonio could hear. For all that he knew, the creature had fallen asleep.

A breathy groan wisped past dried lips, but he didn't dare to move. Small aftershocks of pain still skipped down his back, flicking sensitive vertebrae like a hammer against a bell. It vibrated down into his core, and such a strange sensation furled in his belly, much like a pocket of air pressing against his diaphragm. With every tiny shift merely from breathing, that sensation grew, eventually sending tingling itches to the surface of his skin.

"Hey..."

So, he was awake after all. Even though Lovino's voice met his ears only as a whisper, something about it stabbed at his mind. "Softer, please." The chair that Lovino lounged on squeaked as he shifted his weight around, soft pats echoing into the room moments before warm fingers brushed against Antonio's scalding temple. They lingered just above his brow for a few moments, lightly applying pressure, but then they trailed down to the side of his neck.

"Does it hurt?"

"Depends on what you mean." His entire body ached, to be honest. Lovino huffed in response, pushing against Antonio's shoulder in order to lay him on his side. Opening his eyes, he gazed at the complex emotion on the man's face. Concern, and perhaps a bit of anxiety twisted behind his olive orbs like a clouded storm, one emotion flicking off light before the other obscured it from Antonio's own eyes.

"Your stomach, you fucking dipshit. Does your damn stomach hurt?" Oh. Well, no, it really didn't hurt, at least compared to his head and everything else. It was more annoying than anything else, or, for a better word, it simply felt _funny_.

"Not really?" A blank stare melted onto the creature's face, amber flicking down to Antonio's belly, although they quickly returned to the gentle emeralds observing every movement he made.

Lovino pursed his lips, a stream of grumbles vibrating from his throat. "_What the fuck is that supposed to mean... damn, fucking idiot._" Nimble fingers brushed sweat-laced stresses off of Antonio's forehead, and lingered for only a second before he suddenly arose to his feet, making a b-line for the hallway. He disappeared into the darkness, well, as much as he could anyway, and Antonio allowed his eyes to wander around his den, drinking in the calming silence and dusk that would normally fail to grace his mind. The muted colours of blue and silver, the beams of moonlight glimmering off of metallic surfaces scattered throughout the room, and the _tranquillity_ that coursed through his blood on such a beautiful evening, it was nothing like the nightmarish world painted by the imagination of mortals; nothing like what he himself envisioned it to be only a few days before.

Holding back a yawn, Antonio gently eased himself onto his back and shifted around until he was relatively comfortable, despite the pain tumbling down his spine, then finally allowed that yawn to escape into the air, smacking his lips with content. How strange it was, that odd sensation in his stomach, though when he glanced down, it looked to be normal...well, sort of. His bellybutton looked a bit _longer_ than he remembered, and when he gently pressed down, he could feel what seemed to be faint, overlapping ridges between, or even over his abdominal muscles, extending from the base of his ribs to a few centimetres below his navel. But before he could lean up to see if it was simply his mind playing tricks on him, something soft and large smacked him in the face, and something solid clattered on the table behind his head.

"It was blinking." Came Lovino's voice from behind the soft thing; his largest pillow, he saw once he pulled it away. He pointed to Antonio's phone, and like he said, the tiny LED light in the corner was flashing, but before he could reach for it, Lovino forced the Spaniard to rest his head upon the pillow, flicking him on the forehead as he did so. "You're not moving for the rest of the night."

Oh, really now? This wasn't going to work for long, and he hoped that Lovino realized this before long. Actually, that might not be so bad. At least then, he wouldn't have to worry about hurting his back, or make anything else start aching. "Well, can you hand me my phone?" Lovino scowled at the request, but none the less, he still obliged, slipping his fingers around the device and placing it on the Spaniard's stomach. The chill felt fantastic against his flesh, but it only lasted a brief second as he checked his messages, noticing that the only new one wasn't too old.

**From:** **Gil**

_Yo, Toni! Havent heard from you in days. Just wondering how you are doing. Call me back. Okay, bud?_

**June 27 9:58 pm**

Sure, he would _love_ to call his best pal and have a chat with him, but right now definitely was not the right time to do it, especially with Lovino scowling daggers at the Spaniard. He'd call him in the morning, sometime when the creature was sound sleep. The message glared into Antonio's eyes for a few moments before his fingers began to type out a reply, only for a frown to crease his lips not long after.

No, he didn't want to put an "s" there. Ugh… He grumbled in frustration as he attempted to type it out, his talons proving hard to get around with the buttons, constantly pressing other ones, making it seem as if he was drunk out of his mind. Brows furrowed and his cherry pink tongue stuck out in concentration, his peripheral barely catching the stifled giggle bubbling from under Lovino's fingers. Oh, how mean. Antonio glanced up at the creature, twisting his lips into a pout, and much to his satisfaction, Lovino instantly looked away, stumbling over his words and feet alike as he tottered over into the kitchen. Lovino, while he was insufferable most of the time, just then, that tiny giggle was adorable, but, at least now, he wouldn't be making too much fun of the Spaniard. Grinning and chuckling with succulent success, Antonio returned his attention to the phone in his hands, once again trying to type out a simple message.

W-what was this? Antonio stared down in disbelief at his phone, knowing _full well_ that the battery said half-full only moments ago, but now, was completely gone. He tapped at one of the buttons, but there wasn't a response, further electing a sigh from his lungs. Yet… when he finally gave up on trying to get it to work, the screen lit up with a horrid, blood red before flickering black and white. He gawked at it, yelping and dropping it one a shock coursed through the piece of plastic and through his fingers. Clattering on the floor, it continued to flash a plethora of colours before suddenly stopping, letting out a screech into the otherwise silent room. From under the screen, some kind of liquid oozed, bringing a metallic scent with it. Antonio reached down, and picked up the phone, grimacing every time the substance dripped onto his fingers and eventually his stomach, each droplet tingling like frigid bug bites. The scent became even stronger when he smeared some of the substance in his fingers and brought it to his nose. This...this didn't make any sense. _Blood..._ how on earth was there _blood_ coming out of his phone!

"What the hell are you making all of that noise for!" Another yelp leaped from Antonio's lips at the outburst from Lovino, his phone hitting the floor once again, and his heart pounding against his ribs.

"M- m-my ph-phone! It's blee_-_" His words welled up in his throat, effectively shutting him up once he looked back down at the device. "_It's gone_..." But...but he was sure that his phone... it... it... But how? He _felt_ the crimson substance on his skin, but it had disappeared; all of it. Now, his phone was perfectly spotless, save for a few fingerprints on the screen that was displaying his unfinished message. Without him even noticing, Lovino had already made his way back over to the Spaniard, both hands on his hips and a scowl set upon his lips, although, it was a bit weaker than the others that graced Antonio's eyes. "T-T-There was blood! I felt it!"

Lovino merely sighed in response, before mumbling under his breath. He kneeled beside Antonio, gently pushing him down against the pillow with one hand as the other brushed the Spaniard's dirty chocolate tresses back, lingering on his forehead. "There wasn't anything, idiot." Fingers trailed down to his collarbones, the skin there hardly able to feel the digits upon them. "Shit, you're sweating like a fucking pig." They trailed down further, pausing on his diaphragm for only a few seconds before they were suddenly worming under the brunet's shoulders, hauling him up once more. "Come on." Pain tiptoed down Antonio's spine from the sudden movements, despite how gradual they were, but he tried to comply with the creature's wishes. "It's cooler in the back."

And he was right. After gritting his teeth and hissing air through his nose the entire trip down the hall, Antonio unlatched his arm from around Lovino's shoulder, carefully lying back on the centre of his bed. This was much, _much_ better. Not only did his back hurt less on the soft mattress, but the air that danced around his sweat-slicked frame brought a smile to his lips, along with a content sigh. It really wasn't much, but hey, he would take anything to make the heat go away at this point. Weight dipped down into the mattress beside him, shifting ever so slightly to the right as Antonio felt warmth brush against the back of his head and a gaze set in his direction.

"Is this any better?" Lovino's voice, much softer than he could ever recall, tickled his ears, almost as much as the lissom fingers playing with the curls on his skull.

"Yes... it's a lot better. Thank you." He only received a grumble in response, but the faint red erupting under his cheeks was enough to make his heart swell. Lovino... he was strange, now that he thought about it. Day in and out, he would curse Antonio to the ends of the planet, yet, he was always so gentle with him, constantly trying to make him as comfortable as possible, but why? It baffled him, even as his emerald orbs became lost as they gazed at the man avoiding eye-contact at all costs. Perhaps he could ask why, but somewhere deep down, he knew that he wouldn't get a decent answer from the man. Maybe it was how stubborn he could be at times, or that infernal frown set into his face. Either way, he still wanted to know. He'd ask him later, when he didn't have a splitting head and toothache, although, the way that Lovino was scratching his skull did kill those pains a bit, so much that a humming sigh vibrated from the depths of his throat as his eyes fluttered shut. He didn't even stop his head once it inched closer to Lovino's thigh, eventually rubbing against it.

Lovino sighed, flicking him on his scalp before continuing those wonderful massages he probably didn't realize felt so damn good. "Move any closer and I'll rip your dick off." Empty words, nothing more, causing a light-hearted chuckle to vibrate in the Spaniard's throat. Too soft, they were, somewhat reminding Antonio someone he met momentarily years before, but now, it wasn't significant. He couldn't even begin to comprehend why Lovino acted so kindly to him, despite all of the horrible ways Antonio treated him the past few days. Enigma... it was the only way he could properly name this _situation_ he was stuck in.

Ah, he'll just have to think about it later. Right now, all he cared for was sleep

A sense of comfort washed over the larger brunet, something that never would've occurred only a day, or even a few hours ago. All of this... it had to have something to do with his body changing so dramatically, or... did it have to do with how he lost control of his body when he was first infected? I t was a possibility, but he was absolutely sure that it hadn't happened recently. "Lovino?" He groaned out a mumble in response to hearing his name, his message to hurry up and say whatever he wanted extremely clear. Words tumbled over his tongue, clattering against his teeth as he tried to figure out what he should ask, although, he decided that he'd already bothered the creature enough for one night. It could wait until later. "Never mind."

Slowly, Antonio lost himself to the world of sleep, barely making out the pleasant warmth that encircled him a few moments later and the gentile hum that danced along his ears.

* * *

><p>One...Two...<p>

Ugh.

How many _more _papers was he going to have to sign before his bosses were happy with him? It wasn't his fault that _VL03116110 _had gone missing. Did they think that he honestly had something to do with it? This was stupid. He wanted to spend a night at home for once, but he was stuck in his office with a mountain of paperwork to go through before he could even dream of returning to the man that surely missed him by now.

Sighing, he read through yet another report on the "trials", this one just as successful as the last... leaving the participant dead, and the company famished for more volunteers. Then, he skimmed through another report about a certain D-class personnel directly tied to LISA; this one lost the ability to move, claimed that hands were tearing through his body and the walls, after complaining about stiff, itchy skin, and running a fever. That man was proclaimed dead the afternoon those symptoms started.

He hated this, all of it; the stench, the screams, the horror pumping through his body as the trials literally tortured those who willingly gave their bodies up in hopes of helping loved ones, although, that zeal usually lasted only a month, if not less. Lovino, on the other hand... that valorous man... It took him _years_ to come to the point where he wanted to stop, and even when they forced him to continue, he never changed the reason he was suffering. He could still remember the last time he saw the Italian face to face, those once burning eyes shattered, nothing more than dust, yet his voice, oh, it retained the ferocity he had since the beginning.

"_You better keep your damn word, you fat fuck._"

And he did, just as he pledged to do before Lovino took one step into the headquarters. Every month for the past five years, he sent out a check from his own salary to the previously designated man of the brunet's choosing, keeping it a secret from the higher ups. He only hoped that it helped that poor kid in the end.

After signing that he acknowledged the plans for the dead participant, he _finally_ came to the last one, although, his heart dropped as he saw the name on the side. He didn't want to look... but he still had to know what his bosses had planned for the pitiable man.

**_Retrieval_**

**_Examination_**

**_Implantation_**

So they thought he was still alive, it seems, leaving locating the man in the hands of the weapon department chief. Excellent... this was very good. He could finally do things his way for once, that is, if he could even find the missing man. There were a million different places he could be, meaning it could take months to find him, _if_ he survived that long, but he wouldn't give the man back to the grubby hands of his bosses as easily as they doubtlessly desired. To be honest, he would probably lose his job for what he had planned, but no matter. He didn't care about their "research" anymore, not after the threats he received and the atrocious things he witnessed. This company would burn, he would personally see to it, and he would piss on the charred remains as they sizzled under the sun.

* * *

><p>Heat broiled under Antonio's skin once he regained consciousness sometime in the morning, the sun's beams already tumbling down from the skies and sprawling out on the backs of his lids, leaving a ruddy hue for his closed eyes to see. Only dampness surrounded his body, feeling as if someone decided to throw a bucket of water on his sheets. The world was twisting and turning, leaving miniscule tingles along his nerves and nausea to bubble in his stomach, although, the weight pressing down across his hips didn't help much at all. If anything, it made everything worse, especially when scalding warmth pressed against the sides of his belly. He cracked an eye open, biting back a groan when the beams stabbed at his brain and his vision swirled everything around as he located the source of the weight.<p>

Lovino... what was he doing? A strange expression contorted his face, his upmost attention drawn to tiny ridges trailing down the centre of the Spaniard's abdomen, and it refused to be broken, even when he shifted around, further straddling Antonio's hips. He flexed his fingers against the green-eyed man's skin before bringing his thumbs together right below his navel. Gently pushing up, those digits trailed the flattened protrusions, oddly enough, electing a shudder from the smaller male. His cherry coloured tongue jutted out, lapping at his bottom lip as he continued to stare, slightly leaning further and further down, until he looked like he was about to pounce on something above Antonio's head. Clattering and clicking filled the Spaniard's ears, on top of the high-pitched ring that was already there.

Long forgetting when his other eye opened, Antonio gaped at the bizarre behaviour of the male, words completely lost from his fogged over mind. Yet, when a soft cough leaped out from between his teeth, Lovino's head snapped up, his wide, fearful eyes completely black and tiny mandibles poking out from the corners of his lips. With a single blink, obsidian turned to olive and those pincers shot back into the crevices of his mouth, but the panicked expression remained. Dryness and pain reared its head as Antonio forced his voice to heed his command. "W-What are you doing?" It was nothing more than a raspy whisper.

"Nothing! I wasn't doing _shit_, you hear me!" Leaping off of the Spaniard, the frantic tang to his voice harmonizing with the panicked aura he radiated, not sparing a second glance before he bolted from the room.

"Lovino!" There wasn't an immediate reply to his shout, forcing a frown onto his lips. Antonio shouted again as he tried to scramble off of the bed, having great difficulty in doing so, but just as he gained a footing on the ground, a chill settled over his limbs. Stumbling, he frantically grabbed for the bedpost, his legs barely able to hold his weight up and his lungs heaving air in and out of his mouth. He couldn't breathe, nor could he properly see. Lights swam around his head along with the entire room, even when he tried closing his eyes. He tried calling out for Lovino again, but all he got in return was a grouchy swear from the hallway instead of the help he desired. Water... he needed water. With careful balance, Antonio managed to push himself up, taking a few steps closer to the door, but soon enough, the floor leaped out from under his feet. His face slammed on the floor, pain shooting up every nerve in his body. He groaned, each breath coming out faster than the previous and his body feeling hotter than ever.

His muscles refused to listen, leaving the man as a crumbled mess on the ground. No one answered him when garbled words called out for help, nor when he scraped at the floor in an attempt to move closer to the door, but it was in vain. His strength abandoned him, barely leaving him enough so he could lift his head off of the floor. Only silence and a bitter fear remained in the swirling haze obscuring his mind. "L-L-ovii...nno..." Through the multiple copies of the same image swimming around and around, none of which would properly come into focus, nausea reared its head, making his stomach lurch with a threat of emptying itself. Tingles slithered up Antonio's arms and legs, feeling more like bugs scuttling under his broiling skin, just crawling higher and higher, eventually reaching his face and stopping at a sharp prick in his gums.

Something... long... and cold wiggled out of where the pain bit him, a pungent taste overflowing his mouth as hundreds of tiny needles pricked at his tongue, moving closer and closer to his parted lips. Antonio's breath hitched deep in his throat once a small creature crawled out of his mouth; a centipede... a long, shiny black centipede that reared its head back to the Spaniard, before twisting around and scurrying up his cheek. Similar sensations dotted his arms as well, each yielding a similar bug that crawled out of the new wounds, drilling frozen fear deeper into his pounding heart. Wh-What, _what_ was happening!

They clicked and clattered with their disgusting mandibles, nipping at his flesh, ripping tiny chunks off as they scurried onto the floor, and just as one's tail scuttled off of an arm or leg, another atrocious insect replaced it, growing larger and larger with each new clone of the last. "L-L-Lovin-no..." A whisper barely scraped through his teeth, harsh and shaky at best. Those creatures snapped their mandibles at him, all while screeching and circling around his unresponsive body. "L-Lovino...h-help... they're everywhere..." Even though this one was a bit louder than his earlier groan, he didn't hear that accented voice reply like he wished. Something behind him scraped what sounded like nails on the doorframe, before creeping closer without so much as soft pats of feet upon the floor. Surely, it was Lovino... it _had_ to be. There wasn't anyone else in his home, but he still couldn't turn his head far enough to see what it was, _and _to watch the blurry mob of centipedes as well. "_Lovino_, I c-can't move." Clicks and clacks met his words, more of the sordid bugs ripping out of his flesh; still circling around him, still no verbal response from his housemate. Antonio let out a quivering huff between gasps, and beads sweat slithered down his cheeks but they failed to cool off his sweltering skin.

He couldn't just lay here and let these beasts eat him alive. There _had_ to be a way from him to move, or at least to scare them off, but, just as Antonio managed to flex his fingers, two sharp, enormous, dagger-like _claws_ dug into his shoulders from behind, effortlessly tugging him onto his back. His breath froze in his lungs, trembling like his caged heart.

It was _monstrous_. Oh, _god_, that didn't remotely begin to describe the immense size of the centipede, nor the skin-crawling clicks snapped from its mandibles. Beady-black eyes lifelessly stared down at the Iberian, then it clattered again, two of its multiple legs gently holding him down. Antonio, oh how his voice refused to properly form intelligible sounds in his mouth, coming out as nothing but slurs and gasps, littered by an occasional whimper. The centipede seemed to react to the nonsense he spouted. It pressed the back of one of its segmented legs against Antonio's cheek, holding it there for a second or two before frantically clattering its mandibles together, the other miniature versions of itself copying its call and gathering around the two. Still making those awful noises, the hideous creature shifted around the Spaniard, and using some of its available legs, began to drag him across the floor. Instantaneously, a screech bellowed from his lungs. "_LOVINO_!"

The creature hissed at him, but that was the only reply he received. There wasn't anything Antonio could grab onto as he slid across the wood, and digging his nails into the floor only left marks, doing nothing to slow down the colossal beast, nor prevent the smaller clones from scuttling around, following the two into the hallway.

Antonio twisted his head around, doing everything he could to peer down the hall, but Lovino still wasn't in sight. Once again, he called out for the man, feeling his throat becoming drier with each breath of air expelled from his lungs, but the creature replied instead of the brunet. A horrible hiss rung in his ears, and mandibles clicked a few inches away from his face. He snarled at the centipede in return, biting back the flinch from the sudden, sharp pressure along his jaw, and the nausea building up in his stomach as his blurry world twirled behind emerald eyes. That alone slowed the creature for a moment, hesitation stalling whatever it had planned, but it failed to last very long. With one forced tug, it pulled Antonio over the threshold of the bathroom, the tiny bump on the floor scraping down the Spaniard's spine, ripping sheets of flesh off his back. It didn't hurt; strangely enough... it simply tingled.

His heart furiously hammered against his ribs, pulsing so quickly that it overwhelmed him, forming black splotches that blocked out much of his vision. Blinking failed to rid them from his sight, and a horrible squeaking shot through his ears, quickly followed by what resembled rushing water. How he failed to notice the centipede releasing him, he had no earthly idea, but it already had its disgusting claws on him again, dragging him over to the tub. With great effort on the creature's part, receiving absolutely no help from Antonio's dead weight or his yells, it managed to lift him up and gently lower him into the bath, water already sloshing around on the bottom. Hissing at the cold chill shooting up from the pads of his feet, Antonio tried to inch away from the creature, focusing all of his strength into his hands.

The creature merely stared at him with its beady little eyes, not making any move towards or away from the Spaniard, its mandibles frantically clicking together as the frigid water rose higher and higher in the tub. Soon, the others of its kind slithered into the room and up to the lid of the bath, gathering like vultures awaiting a weak animal to perish. Such disgusting things, much like the monster towering over the brunet. It clicked its voice at him, pushing sweat-stained tresses of chocolate away from of his forehead, and he stared back, fighting the haze trying to overtake his mind. Everything was becoming darker, _fuzzier_, and his body felt like a fire had been struck under his skin, growing fiercer and larger with each passing second, eating away at his heart. He still could hardly breathe, the lack of air not helping his fading mind in the least.

Soon enough, just as the water reached his collar bones, that centipede somehow managed to turn the faucet, blocking off any more liquid from dropping into the bath, then returned its attention to the sweltering Spaniard.

Where was Lovino?

Why did he not answer him when he called?

Panic settled deep into Antonio's bones. That _monster_ didn't get him, did it? "Where's Lovino?" The beast cocked its head to the side, clicking just like the tiny centipedes slithering closer to the Spaniard. Anger began to fume from the lack of a response, a primal instinct of tearing the creature to shreds and setting out to find his Lovi bubbling up from the centre of his heart. His voice elevated to a harsh yell. "_Tell me where he is_!" The creature remained silent after his shout, unmoving even, until it suddenly slithered its repulsive body into the bath as well, water sloshing and spilling out over the top. Most of it couldn't fit, the rest hanging over the side or curling on the floor. The beast grabbed Antonio's head between two of its legs, lowering its head so part of the warm shell covering its face brushed against his, a sweet breath streaming from its mouth,

He sneered at it, biting at his bottom lip in an attempt to control his racing heart and lungs. It clicked at him in return, it's legs feeling less and less like talons with every minute, but Antonio ignored it the best he could. Keeping eye contact with the beast was more important. Finding _Lovino_ was more important, but now, only his neck, fingers and toes obeyed his command.

Something in the back of his mind recognized the sound of his name somewhere, but it was easily overpowered by the pain welling behind his brows. What little light danced in through the window abruptly brightened, drilling daggers into the man's eyes until he clinched them shut, but the pain was still there, taunting him with its jarring voice. The creature's legs moved down to Antonio's shoulders, where the sensation of its presence significantly dropped, becoming nothing more than pressure rather than something physically touching his skin. He... All he wanted to know was that Lovino was safe. The brunet's name fell from his lips as a whisper, barely audible through the ringing in his ears.

"_Ba...t...rd_..."

Antonio hardly made out the noises his mind managed to process, sounding as if they were outside or even in another room. One of the creature's legs returned to his face, lightly caressing it with the finger it apparently sprouted. That sound from before repeated itself, this time a little louder... it sounded like... like _Lovino_. His eyes weakly fluttered open.

The horrible insects were gone, no longer perched on the lip of the tub or clicking their horrible pincers together, and the largest one was missing as well, replaced by the fretful brunet he longed to see. "_Antonio_," he whispered, searching his eyes for anything that indicated he knew what was going on. "_Antonio_, snap out of it!"

"W-What happened? Where are th-the bugs?"

Lovino sighed, a relieved but shaky smile forming on his lips. "There weren't any bugs, you fool. You were seeing things again."

No... No, they were too realistic to only be a figment of his imagination. "But I fel-" Lovino silenced him with a single finger, quietly reassuring him that they were nothing but illusions. Antonio tried to move, finding that his strength still failed him. "I still can't move."

Another sigh filtered through Lovino's mouth. "You'll be able to later. Right now, you need to cool down." Heat...That had to be the cause of all of this; the nausea, the headaches and trouble breathing... the apparent _hallucinations_. His body was overheating, but why? Why was his body trying to kill him? "You fucking _scared_ me, you damn idiot. Screaming like that." With a weak chuckle, Antonio apologized, now trying his best to relax in the blissfully chilled water, since he _knew_ that Lovino was not lying in some random part of his home, bleeding or something just as horrible. His world still twisted and turned in his head even though he remained as rigid as possible, his skull resting on the lip of the tub. Water dripped down onto the floor when Lovino climbed out of the tub, grumbling about wet pants as he did so, taking the time to tug them off, toss them across into the corner before he kneeled down beside Antonio.

"How long will I have to be in here?"

A half-hearted snort huffed through the smaller brunet's nose. "Probably a few hours. I really don't know exactly how long." He offered the man a gentle smile, as if he was trying to reassure Antonio that everything was going to be alright. "I'll get you anything if you need it." He did exactly that; bringing Antonio a glass of water when he asked, and finding them something to snack on not long after that. Lovino remained by his side the entire time, combing his fingers through his hair every once in a while as he propped his chin up on the lip of the tub, a completely bored expression drawn on his face. Not once did his eyes leave Antonio's face, and he could swear there wasn't one time that the brunet wasn't touching him. The shoulder, neck, scalp, it didn't seem to matter, as long as at least one finger was present at all times on the Spaniard's skin.

About three or four hours passed before Lovino felt that it would be okay for Antonio to move back into the bedroom for some proper rest. He stumbled with every few steps, utterly thankful that the other male was there to help him, even going so far as to change the Spaniard's pants when he collapsed onto the soft mattress. Oh, how much better he felt. His body didn't seem as if it was on fire anymore, and he was free of that coating of sweat that covered his flesh for the past few days. Not to mention his back free of that itching, constricting pressure that tormented him for days on end. Dare he say it, but he felt _relaxed_ for once, _completely_ at ease.

He yawned, stretching out numb muscles after a few moments of staring at the room, switching his focus to the nude man searching for something to slide over his rump. Lovino... he was just something else, wasn't he? Such a cold shell, masking the warm-hearted man underneath. Eventually, Lovino noticed the Spaniard's lingering eyes, peering over his shoulder at the man and scowling. "Don't get any fucking ideas, pervert." He couldn't help but to chuckle at Lovino's bashfulness, but his focus never left the grumbling male. Every flex of his muscles, every twist of his spine, he watched it, faintly noticing the ridge-like intentions across his back and how those root-like extensions from his vertebra smoothly followed the lines. Many of the holes closest to the column of bones were now missing as if more had sprouted out overnight and fused together, creating a smooth stretch of alabaster. This continued up all of his back, from the junction right below his lower back, to his shoulders; only his butt seemed to lack anything, well, at least until Lovino finally covered it with a pair of Antonio's boxers.

Pivoting around and with a scowl on his face, Lovino drug his feet over to the bed and flopped down below Antonio's feet. He groaned as he pulled himself up the mattress, stopping only once he was lying beside the Spaniard. "God, I'm fucking tired." He grumbled, flipping over onto his back, casting a lethargic frown at Antonio. "This is your fault."

Yes, it probably was, wasn't it? "Thank you, Lovino." Another grumble sufficed as a reply, though the man soon turned onto his side, and he scooted across the bed, closer to the Spaniard. A frown curved his lips downward.

"I don't want just a fucking 'thanks'. Not after all of the shit I've done for you." Well, he had a point. Words only went so far, and after a while, they wouldn't be enough to match the actions of another.

"Ok, then what can I do to make it up?" Olive eyes flicked down to Antonio's stomach, but just as quickly returned to his face, hesitance and uncertainty broiling behind his irises. He easily made out Lovino's own stomach twitching the moment he looked down, but it too stopped with the brunet's gaze.

Lovino sighed after a moment of contemplating. "Never mind. Forget that I said anything." With that, he twisted around, bearing his back to Antonio, who frowned in return. No, he wanted _something_, but was too afraid to ask him. Why, he didn't know, but he was afraid to ask _why_ he changed his mind. After all, he really didn't want the male to be angry with him. So he remained silent, lightly tapping his fingers against his stomach as he blankly stared at the wall in content. He... was happy now. He couldn't explain it, but he was happy for the first time in a while. And as he felt Lovino's spine brush against his arm, that glee multiplied, spreading through his body, while leaving tingles in its trail.

Antonio sighed, smiling as his eyes gently closed, although, they quickly shot back open once Lovino grabbed of his left wrist, tugging him so it reached over his waist, back pressed to chest. Grumbling, he managed to pull Antonio's other arm under him, holding both hands in his own as he pressed them to his belly and snuggled the back of his head into the Spaniard's lower right shoulder. Oh... oh, how cute. Was _this_ what the man wanted? Why didn't he just say so? A smile graced Antonio's lips, and he shifted, drawing a yelp from the man. He pulled him closer to his chest, moving his arms into a more comfortable position; one hand on the man's heart, the other tucked under lissom fingers atop his navel.

"Why didn't you just say this is what you wanted?"

A stutter bubbled from Lovino's mouth, only adding to the adorable way his cheeks flushed a bright red. "Shut up, bastard. Go the fuck to sleep."

* * *

><p><strong>There were probably mistakes in this chapter, but they will be fixed in a day or so.<strong>

**As before, if anything doesn't make sense, tell me, and if it doesn't reveal anything major, I'll do my best to explain it.  
><strong>


	9. The beast howls in my veins

**Welp. Here is the next chapter. From this point on, you guys need to start thinking of questions that haven't been answered yet, or theories that you don't understand. Like in Sound Life, I will try to answer them at the very end of this story, and if I don't get any questions, I won't know what you guys don't understand. It will be a little while before Infection is over, so you have time to think, and even time for things to be explained as the story goes on.  
><strong>

**I also changed most of the chapter names. Mostly because I wanted to for a while, and now they're flowing like I originally wanted them to.  
><strong>

**Enjoy~  
><strong>

* * *

><p><em>Queen...<em>

_Queen..._

_Queen..._

_They call me.. They below me. Meat bags that tremble. Tasty...crunchy. _

_I want... want children. Need mate. But they no give me healthy mate. Die... die... they all die. Pop like sores. They try... but fail. Over. Over._

_I smell him... far, far away. Young...healthy. They no let me find him. They no let me out. So I kill them. Eat them. Blood, everywhere. So tasty. But I trapped._

_Trapped..._

_Waiting. and waiting._

* * *

><p>Well... at least this was a nice restaurant. While he preferred to be at home, trying to find anything he could about Lovino's whereabouts and <em>Project LISA<em>, Ludwig had abruptly decided that Gilbert was going to join Feliciano and him for lunch. It wasn't _too_ bad, he finally decided after sitting down with the two at one of the outdoor tables. He did need some fresh air after all, and perhaps a break from staring at nothing but numbers and codes would give his mind a quick start whenever he returned. Although, that morning, he had managed to find a file named _Final Personal Entry_, followed by that ridiculously long string of numbers and letters, but... before he watched the file, his brother barged into the room, stating that they were going out.

Sighing, Gilbert leaned back in his chair as Feliciano chatted away with Ludwig about blissful things that would probably be directed towards the albino sooner or later. Meh. He'd just wing it.

"...so I told him that I'd get it done, a-..."

Gilbert listened every now and then to the conversation, but most of his attention was drawn to the civilians strolling down the street, along with those walking in and out of the hospital directly across from the tiny coffeehouse. Many looked healthy, while others seemed to be less fortunate when it pertained to their health.

"...but, I also had to care for my cat too. I couldn't just le-..."

He frowned. Oh, he would kill to be back home right now. The urge to find Feli's missing brother; it was like an itch that wouldn't go away, no matter how much he scratched it. And he was sure that he was so close too! It infuriated him like nothing else to be torn away from a week's worth of hard work.

But...

He had to admit, he certainly needed human contact to try to erase the horrible video he watched the previous night from his mind. It plagued his short lived dreams, condemning him to a shuddering mess when he woke up only two hours after passing out.

Tapping his fingers against his legs, Gilbert's attention returned to the two men chatting away, although it was more like Feliciano was talking and Ludwig was merely listening, and nodding every other bubbly sentence. He seemed to be much livelier today; smiling, laughing and sipping away at the iced coffee cupped between twiggy fingers, and it brought a smile to the elder German's lips. It was like that gloomier version of the man had disappeared.

"So, Gil," Chocolate eyes turned towards the unvoiced German, a serene smile stretched below. "What have you been up to lately~?"

Should he tell him the truth? "Erm..." Such an eager gaze danced across the small table, completely and utterly overflowing with innocence and that child-like curiosity the Italian was known for. "Just working on a little project." No. Now was not the time.

A hum purred in Feli's throat, and he took a sip of his drink. "No relaxation between meetings?"

Gilbert chucked, slightly hoping that Feli missed the nervousness twisting his breaths. "A little, but not much."

"That's good to hear~ Do you have any plans for the next few days?" Yes. He was going to find anything he could about Lovino, and then find Alfred and interrogate the blond bastard about everything that happened behind Eugenics' closed doors.

"Just a few things. Why do you ask?"

Feliciano smiled, gingerly placing his cup down on its coaster. "I was hoping we could spend more time together. You seem so busy lately." He paused for a moment, pursing his lips as he often did while in deep thought. "You know, one of Luddy's buddies is going hunting in a few days. Mr. Bob, right?" He turned to Ludwig, who nodded. "Maybe you could go with him? He wouldn't mind if someone came with him, and it would be something for you to do out of the city." He leaned forward, gently interlacing his fingers with Ludwig's. "I think Arthur and Alfred considered going with him when they originally planned it in May, but something came up, so they couldn't go with Bob."

While on normal circumstances Gilbert would be all for leaving a project behind to spend a few days hunting, he would have to decline it this time. If Lovino was still alive, every minute he spent doing something else was a minute that the Italian was being tortured, possibly leading to an outcome he never wanted to envision. "I'll have to think about it."

"You should go, _bruder_." Ah, so his brother hadn't lost the ability to speak. "You've been locked up in your room too for long. You need to get out and do something without your computer."

"As I said. I'll think about it." He didn't need Ludwig on his hide about this crap too, although, telling him what he was doing failed to cross his mind. Ludwig _worked_ for that horrible company, but considering he didn't know anything about Lovino, he probably wasn't trudging too deeply in the company's secrets. The files he had in his room only covered what medicines they produced, and their marketing plans... nothing more. Gilbert didn't want to break his little bro's heart with the truth.

The burly blond sighed, taking a sip of his water. "Just consider it. Besides, it's been a long time since we've seen him."

"Yeah~ I wonder how the boys are doing. I heard that the younger one just got into Stanford."

"That was four years ago, Feliciano."

And that was Gilbert's cue to allow his mind to wonder off once more. He missed those rebellious brothers and their caretaker probably as much as Ludwig did, but the situation about Lovino was more important at that moment. His attention hopped from head to head, watching uninteresting people as they walked by, and he inwardly sighed. The sun was too bright today, and it strained his crimson eyes despite the shade he was sitting in. It was also too hot, but Feli wanted to sit outside in that awful sweater. How he wasn't burning up, Gilbert certainly wanted to know. It was a fucking turtle neck for god's sake, and a dark one at that! Yet, with every excruciatingly pleasant breeze that drifted past the three, Feliciano shuddered under the breath of the wind.

Before too long, one of the prettier waitresses brought the three out their food, lingering long enough only to earn a wink from the Italian before disappearing back inside. Gilbert picked at his pastry with one of his fork's prongs. Every now and then, he cut off a piece and popped it in his mouth as he idly listened to Feli and West's conversation.

"Oh! Oh! I saw some last week! I think they were on sale!"

Somehow... they moved onto _books_.

How, he had no earthly idea, nor did he know that Feli actually liked to read. He always complained about having to read paper after paper when it came to work, but who knew that he regularly sat down and read romance, mystery and even horror stories. Hell, Gilbert felt that he could actually pay attention this time. "I heard that she's coming out with a new one soon."

Feliciano beamed, overly pleased with the thought that all three of the men read the same author, and suddenly, this tiny break from his project was getting a lot better. Even Ludwig joined in from time to time, although his attention often drifted to his watch. He probably had a meeting he had to go to or something. Gilbert didn't keep up with his schedule any more. They chatted away; comparing their favourites of her works, reciting their well remembered lines and even spat out theories about the next book in her series. And that, soon enough, led to yet another topic, this one not as lovely as the last.

"You know," the bubbly Italian brunet, finishing off his tiny serving of velvet cake just before wiping the crumbs away from his mouth "I think there are only three more meetings, and then we can go back home to Europe~" Only three more, huh? What was that, a week? Damn... that didn't leave Gilbert with much time to find the fire-blooded Italian. "I'm so excited! I can finally see Oliva again! Oh, I hope she's been good for Roderich and Elizabeta." Heh. Who wouldn't be excited to return home? If only Gilbert shared his enthusiasm. "Ooh, we should get everyone together for a party when we get back, just like old times. Wouldn't that be great?"

"Yes, Feliciano," West practically hummed, his meal also finished. "That is a fantastic idea." There was something off about his bro's words; a _hesitation_ of some sort, although it was extremely faint, and it seemed to go right under Feli's nose. Ludwig glanced down at his watch again, before suddenly standing up. "I'm sorry, Feliciano, _bruder_, but I have somewhere I need to be."

He leaned down and pressed a soft kiss on the brunet's cheek, who pitifully smiled before standing up to hug the much larger male. "Visit me when you get off, okay?"

"Of course. I'll see you then." He turned to Gilbert. "I'll see you when I get home, _bruder_."

Gilbert simply waved his hand. "Later, bro." And then he set off into the small coffeehouse, probably to pay the bill before going wherever he needed to be.

"So, um... Gil." His voice was small, barely audible over the cars passing by, even though he moved to the chair directly beside the ashen haired man. "Can... can you tell me what you've been doing for the past few days? Luddy is really worried about how much you spend locked in your room." Feliciano brought his hands down into his lap as a summer breeze lapped at his cheeks. "I'm worried too."

His heart clinched at the doleful gleam in those chocolate eyes. If... if he told the Italian about his brother, he'd want to see anything that he found, and if he did...

It would destroy the poor man.

After a few moments of silence, a cold hand found its way atop one of Gilbert's and there was a weak metallic screech as Feliciano scooted closer to the blond. "Please, Gilbert. I won't tell Luddy if you don't want me to." It wasn't Ludwig that was the problem.

"Feli..." Their eyes locked upon each other; sour strawberry against milky chocolate.

"Please."

A gruff sigh crawled out of his throat. It wouldn't hurt to tell him a very vague explanation of his "project", would it? "I've been...," he paused. What if Feli demanded to know everything he found? He _really_ didn't want to lie to his long-time friend. "I've been trying to find... someone."

"Who?"

Oh, he really wished he didn't pry into this, but after the gentle squeeze to his hand, his heart melted. "Y...Your brother. Lovino."

Shock materialized in the man's eyes. "L-Lovi?" Gilbert nodded, trying his best to avoid the older man's gaze. "But why? Why after all of these years?"

"I-" Hesitating, he bit at his lip. "I can't tell you anything else. I'm sorry." Feli remained silent, his eyes trained on the stone tiles below their feet, most likely rolling words around his tongue. Leather shoes scuffled against the legs of the chair.

Slowly, Feliciano's lips moved. "Is... he still alive?"

He didn't know for sure, and considering the awful things he witnessed, there was no telling if the poor man was still the same. "I think he may be," perhaps it was better to allow the man to think positively, if only to make him not worry so much. "But I have no idea where he may be."

Arms suddenly wrapped around the albino's torso, pulling him closer to the smaller male as tears were smeared into his shoulder. "Thank you..."

Thanks... for what? He really hadn't found anything that could be considered _happy_, only that there was the possibility that he was _alive_... alive and probably in so much pain that he would _want_ to be dead instead. Yet, Gilbert still hugged the frail frame back, lightly patting the thickly clothed back. He kept his mouth shut, especially as his heart tightly clinched.

Across the street, cheerfully strutting out of the hospital was a certain blond. An _American_ blond dressed in an ashen jacket, much like something a doctor or _scientist_ would wear. Just as the sunlight enveloped the older man, he pulled the coat off, tucking it under his arm as he walked down the street without a care in the world, pausing only when he apparently got a text. After that, he continued on his way, and Gilbert's eyes followed him until he disappeared into a crowd of tourists, but while he wanted to follow the man, he couldn't abandon the Italian either. Feli remained ignorant about the one who was probably _the_ main culprit of his brother's disappearance.

Probably about four or so minutes later, Feli asked if he wanted to leave, and he agreed to the proposition. Just like he thought, Ludwig paid for their light lunch, so the owner didn't give them much trouble as they pushed through the front doors. Like before, the sun's heat pressed down on the two, and without the comfort of the bi-coloured umbrella, Gilbert's shirt began to stick to his back. Feli didn't seem to be bothered at all by the sweltering air.

They remained silent for the majority of the walk, although, just as the heat was becoming a bit too unbearable for the blond, they passed a local electronic store. He still needed a mouse for his computer, especially since West had griped so much that morning when he snatched his. "Hey Feli? Can we stop in here for a minute?" The Italian nodded, quietly stepping inside behind Gilbert. Instantly, they drifted to the back of the shop, where the computer keyboards and appliances were located. Feliciano looked at the various appliances as Gilbert searched for the perfect mouse.

"Have you heard from Tonio lately?"

He glanced over his shoulder at the sound of the elder man's voice. No...That broke fool still hadn't returned any of his texts or calls. It was like Antonio had fallen off the face of the planet; never to be seen again. "I haven't."

"It's strange." Feli continued, flipping the small package over in his hands before bringing it closer to his eyes so he could properly read the tiny words. "There was a meeting yesterday, and he wasn't there." Apparently dissatisfied with the product, he returned it to the shelf and picked up another. That was strange indeed. Never before had the Spaniard missed a meeting, especially one that included his _darling_ Italian. "Do you think he's alright?"

Pulling the blue mouse off of one of the higher shelves, Gilbert hummed back a response. "I'm sure he's fine." Perhaps that tomato obsessed man was still a bit depressed about the whole rejection thing, and decided that he didn't need to be reminded about it by going to a meeting, or something. "He'll turn up sooner or later." He sighed once he read the unsatisfactory abilities of the mouse, and returned it to its previous resting place. There _had_ to be one that was perfect for the German, or at least one that equalled him in awesomeness. Well, probably not _equalled_, but something similar.

"When was the last time you saw him?"

Damn... when _was_ the last time he saw that rainbow spouting fool? "Seven... Eight days?" It was something like that, he was sure. "Whenever that last big meeting was."

Feli sighed, choosing to sit on the floor as he waited for Gilbert to find a pristine mouse that would suit his tastes. He still fiddled with the cased products on the bottom shelf. "That's the last time I saw him too." So much softer, his voice was, almost as if he blamed himself for Antonio's sudden gloomy behaviour. "I'm really worried about him."

"He's a strong guy. Not the smartest, but that bastard's got a set of guts that will pull him through any kind of shit he gets himself into."

A light giggle bubbled up from the sitting man. "You're right, but I still want to know how he's doing."

After picking up the green mouse, Gilbert decided that he might as well just settle for a cheap one for now. Feliciano was probably growing bored. "Tell you what," he helped the shorter man up on his feet, faintly noting how light he was. He could've sworn that he weighed more than he looked. "If he doesn't show up in the next few days, we'll pay him a visit."

Together, they walked over to the clerk's counter. "What if he doesn't want any visitors?" In other words, _what if he doesn't want to see me_. The clerk rang up the plastic package and asked for the appropriate amount of money.

"We'll have to force our way in, but don't worry about that. Toni _never_ locks his doors." Unless he recently started, which would be foolish. Who the hell would get him in the middle of a forest? A fucking deer with opposable thumbs? Gilbert jammed his fingers into his pockets and paid the bored looking man with the money he pulled out, politely thanking him once he bagged his purchase and handed him his change.

From there, the two merely walked around the city, sharing few words until they reached Feli's apartment. Gilbert saw that he reached his room okay, and hugged him goodbye before leaving, catching a cab to his own temporary home. _Home..._ my, had it already been half a year since he had stepped foot in his house on the outskirts of Berlin? West had only been in America for a month, Feli too, so their homesick pangs weren't nearly as bad as the self-proclaimed Prussian's. Unlocking his front door, his mind drifted back to his pet hounds and the lovely land that surrounded the whitewashed building... it was nothing like this tiny _thing_ he was renting. There was actually room to exercise in, unlike here, which probably contributed to the albino's recent weight gain.

He gently closed the door behind him, making sure to lock it, before he kicked off his shoes and returned to his room upstairs. A sneeze echoed in the empty house, followed by a groan and a drawn out creak. Ugh, he needed to clean, but it would have to wait. For now, that uncovered video was calling to him, and he would be dammed if he didn't watch it. Gilbert's computer loaded up once he tore open that annoyingly sealed package and replaced his ruined mouse, taking much longer than normal. Frowning at the electronic device, Gilbert flopped down in his chair, checking for anything that seemed out of place. The keyboard was free of anything strange, and everything seemed to be where he left it, leaving him a bit confused as to why _it was taking so much fucking time to load up_. He'd have to check the status of his software and run a few scans for malware that he may have picked up from downloading those files, but other than that, he couldn't think of anything else that could have caused it.

Before too long, much to his displeasure, his log on screen popped up on the monitor, sporting the default icon above the default login name... and he didn't even have to type in his password. It automatically logged him into the system. Rage, fear and a fuck-ton of other less than useful emotions bubbled up in his chest, threatening to spill out as his eyes rested upon that annoying _default_ background with _everything_ like it was when he first bought the damn machine. No files... no programs... nothing on his desktop. He frantically clicked and clicked and clicked some more, searching for those documents and videos he had hidden deep within a series of folders, but he couldn't find them.

They were all gone.

All of that work... gone... vanished from his computer, along with everything else.

Save... for one thing; a single document resting in the centre of his desktop. He clicked on it, already feeling that rage threatening to take him over.

_**I warned you to stay out. I'm sorry it had to come to this**_.

Over and over, he read those maddening words, his teeth clinching tight enough that he probably was in danger of cracking one of the crowns atop his molars. Someone had erased _everything _from his computer... deleting days worth of work. Gilbert groaned, throwing his hands up to his face. Now what was he going to do? All of the programs he used were back at home in Germany, and it wasn't like he could buy those less than legal disks here without the chance of being arrested. He didn't have any of the codes, IPs, or passwords he managed to dig from walls and walls of protective data, meaning... meaning he couldn't do a damn thing to find Lovino's whereabouts. Alfred could easily deny anything Gilbert accused him of, so it wasn't like he could directly confront the man; he had a will of fucking steel, one that was much sturdier than West's or even Ivan's. He'd... well, he'd have to find another way. Kiku had the same programs, he was sure, so he could always call the Japanese man up and _try_ to explain the situation. Maybe then, things might run a bit smoother and they would be able to find the missing Italian.

_PING~_

Gilbert's eyes flicked open at the noise that reached his ears. What on earth caused that? It wasn't his phone, for it was turned off. The noise echoed in the room once again from somewhere in front of him. Removing his hands from his face, Gilbert retuned his attention to his computer screen, where a chat box of some sort had opened up, one that he had never seen before, and it contained two sentences and a flashing curser, where he'd probably type something back.

**10-15-14-05-19:**

_**Hello, Gilbert.**_

_**It seems that prying into LISA has gotten your computer into some trouble, hasn't it?**_

* * *

><p>There was a hand on the ceiling.<p>

Ever since Antonio woke up around nine-thirty, that damnable appendage taunted him from the roof; scuttling around, making annoying clicks every time its feral nails tapped against the wood, and smearing red all over the top of the room. It was just a figment of a mind gone wild, he knew, but it still unnerved him to have it in his sight, although, the dread that hand produced faltered in comparison to the knowledge that his mind was _still_ far from healthy. Even then, _this_ was better than those disgusting insects. The disembodied hand scratched at the roof with three of its withered fingers, urging the Spaniard to chuck something at it in pure annoyance. He honestly considered doing so, but held back his temper, trying his best to focus on something else instead. It was a shame that Lovino was missing from his arms when his eyes cracked open that evening, and for the past hour, he didn't make his presence known to the man, slightly depressing him as the minutes dragged on.

Antonio sighed, absent-mindedly scratching at his jaw as the discorporate hand scuttled down the wall, pausing above one of the framed pictures before completely disappearing. It would be back, or something else would be replacing it, he was sure, but at least it left him time without that abomination annoying him. He stretched his body out across the bed. Ah, how much better this was. Although warmth still bubbled under his constricting skin, it wasn't nearly as sweltering as before, perhaps just as bad as sitting outside on a summer day while wearing a sweater, which left him wide awake and much, _much_ happier. Why, if his bones weren't so sore, he would probably find and ask Lovino if he wanted to take a walk through the woods surrounding their home, if only to get the kinks out of his joints.

Of course, he would have to find the man if he wanted to request something like that. He yawned once more before leaning up, trying to flex his spine as much as he could without hurting it by reaching for his toes, although, he halted his movement as his sight fell upon his feet.

Bits of his flesh around the nails were uprooted, both on his fingers and his toes, resembling a snake's old layer of skin flecking off due to a something sharp nicking at it. Cocking his head to the side and furrowing his brows in puzzlement, he gently pulled the flesh apart with the tips of his nails, exposing a shiny black surface underneath the separated flaps. The onyx substance, holding an identical shade as the claw it cleanly merged into, seemed to cover his entire toe, and with each centimetre he tore upward, more of the solid surface came to his view, spreading up his foot. There was no pain at all... just a lingering tingle and the sensation of having a smothering restraint removed. No matter how far he split his flesh, that black stuff glimmered under it.

Antonio stopped once he reached his ankle, leaned back, noticing that the same shadowy growth lined the broken skin upon the tops of his fingers, although the underside was left bare.

While any normal human would be terrified of having something growing under their skin, it really failed to make an impression on the Spaniard. This was probably just a product of his haywire mind, and to be honest, compared to what it fabricated that morning, this was like a cloud infested dream.

Yawning, he gently scratched at his belly, only for more skin to be ripped up as his nails clawed at the surface, neatly exposing bits of those obsidian ridges that trailed down his belly. Once again, he regarded it as a figment of his imagination; it didn't hurt, nor did blood drip from the lacerations, which left him a bit sceptical that anything really happened. These phantasms were truly getting strange, weren't they? Anyway, he couldn't waste any more time on laying around in bed, so Antonio quickly firmly planted his feet on the ground and allowed a drawn-out yawn to fill his mouth. He winced once his jaw was fully expanded. _That_ _pressure is still there_... How many days was it now? He ran his hand along the flesh right above his jaw as he hobbled over to the door. There was a lump on both sides of his mouth, and they were big ones at that, easily extending from end to end of his jaw, tapering off right below his lower canines. Maybe he should get Lovino to look at it, just to make sure it wasn't some sort of infection.

Antonio turned the corner, but his eyes were focused on the floor rather than where he was going. Whatever was on his jaw, it _felt_ smooth on the outside, but every time he pressed against it, it felt as if something sharp was digging into his gums... something pincer-like in design. But before he had the guts to rub his finger on the inside of his mouth, a breathy whisper caught his ear.

_We have to wait...not now...not now..._

At the very end of the hallway, stood Lovino with his back turned to the Spaniard. He was hunched ever so slightly over, his arms wrapped around his torso as he leaned against the half-wall separating the dining and living rooms. Upon nearing the male, he could see that his entire body quivered and his head steadily rubbed back and forth across the single beam connecting the wall to the ceiling. Lovino was muttering under his breath, every other exhale a shaky, constrained hiss.

_He's not- hha-ahh... not r-ready..._

Silently, Antonio tiptoed over to the shuddering male, brows furrowed and eyes trained on every movement of his housemate as he circled around to his front. Pearly mandibles, much the same hue as the growths on his back and his nails, clicked against his clinched teeth, and a high pitched whine whistled from the pockets of air caught by the protrusions. Beads of perspiration dribbled down from his hairline, and the light from the moon caught on the droplets, greatly contrasting against his ruddy, dull specks that weakly pulsated under the shroud of darkness. His brows were firmly crunched over tightly closed eyes, forming wrinkles along his normally smooth skin.

Oh...oh, what was wrong? Never before had he seen the man this _sickly_. Did the heat finally get to him as well?

"Are you okay?"

Lovino's eyes flicked up to Antonio at the sound of his voice; almost completely black, they were, save for the crimson slits and what seemed to be vessels near the corners, giving them a bloodshot appearance. He took a few deep breaths before speaking. "I'm ...I'm _fine._"

An alien sense of dread bubbled up in his heart. "Lovi, I don't believe you."

"Just shut up." The response was hasty, much unlike the previous one. Sighing, Lovino rested his head against the thin column, his frail eyes gazing at the Spaniard before him as his arms refused to move from their place around his stomach. They tightened with every harsh twitch of his body. "And don't fucking call me _Lovi_. It's Lovino, you bastard. Make sure you re-_ah... _remember th-that_._"

Antonio couldn't help but to weakly chuckle at such seemingly callous words, catching yet another glare from the brunet. "Okay, okay." He kept his voice soft, just like his touch as he gently pulled one of Lovino's hands away from his belly. "Go lie down in my room, alright? I'll bring you a glass of water."

"I don't need to lie down, i-idiot. I'm _fine_."

"Please, Lovino. At least go sit down."

His scowl failed to waver, but after a tiny, wearied huff, he succumbed to Antonio's plea and allowed him to lead him over to the couch. Something similar to Lovino's frown materialized on the Spaniard's lips. The man's steps; they were far too weak, and more times than once, his legs acted as if they wanted to give out on him, forcing his body to rely on Antonio's grip to keep himself from crumbling onto the floor. Once Lovino was eased down onto the sofa, still glaring as if he was told he couldn't have something he wanted, Antonio kneeled down in front of him. Oh... oh, there was so much sweat on his clammy skin, much more than he could wipe away with the back of his fingers.

Without a word, he arose and quickly shambled into the kitchen to fetch the sickly man the water he promised. Even from the sink, he could hear Lovino's breaths shallow and quicken, although soon after, they became muffled as he obviously tried to hide them from the taller male, perhaps with his hand or one of the pillows on the sofa. Glasses clinked against each other, mostly from Antonio's fumbling hands trying to hasten his actions, and he was sure he was about to drop one before we was able to neatly pull one from one of the higher shelves.

He couldn't see the top of Lovino's head, nor that wayward curl when he threw a glance over his shoulder. Hopefully, he was lying down like he had asked, but knowing the man's stubbornness; it wasn't likely that he actually listened to Antonio's request. Once the glass was filled nearly to the brim, Antonio hurried back over to his ill roommate, quickly noting the similar tears to his own flesh were dotting Lovino's body, although the durable surface underneath was as white as bone, rather than a glittering onyx.

Drained, black eyes languidly gazed at the Spaniard, slowly blinking every now and then before slipping closed for a bit longer as Antonio kneeled down in front of him. God... just from the few moments he was out of his sight, Lovino looked a hell of a lot worse than he did standing up. Setting the glass down on the coffee table behind him, Antonio trailed the male's body with his eyes, drinking in every detail just before he gingerly ran his finger across the dark blotches that stained Lovino's sternum. He hissed in response to the gentle prodding. "Does it hurt?"

Lovino sneered, trying to shift over to his side, still hissing and still keeping his eyes trained on the Spaniard's. "What do you fucking th-think?"

It hurt... but... "How long?"

"Since last-..." Lovino cut himself off just as quickly as he replied. He hesitated, closing his eyes and sighing. "Not long. D-Don't worry ab-bout it."

Don't worry? How couldn't he? Antonio frowned, gently caressing the sore expansion of flesh with his palm. "Does this help?" Lovino didn't respond. Instead, his brows furrowed and a grimace wormed its way onto his lips, baring those sharp teeth and mandibles to the night. "Lovi?" Still no response. He didn't pass out, did he? Yet, as Antonio pulled his hand away from Lovino, it was seized by a weak grip and pressed onto the other male's stomach.

"B-Bastard...," Lovino's voice trembled with frailty, and, if Antonio's ears weren't lying to him, specks of _fear _swirled under such breathy words. "D-Don't st-stop. Hurts... _less_." He was glad that at least _something_ was helping the man right now, even if it was only his fingers touching the afflicted area.

And as the minutes dragged on, his touch remained present on Lovino's skin, although his mind began to wonder. Once again, there were things crawling along the roof, making all kinds of hums and screeches that normally would've distracted or frightened the Spaniard, yet... his body seemed to be unaffected by those beasts. It continued to caress the ailing man's belly as if it failed to notice all of the possible distractions.

Perhaps it was because he knew that the bugs along his ceiling weren't real and couldn't harm him.

Either way, Lovino seemed much more content with the brunet's gentle fingers along his flesh. As the winkles along his eyes disappeared once he relaxed, and returned his fluttering gaze upon Antonio, those black orbs much softer than they were when he first saw him that evening. Lovino didn't say a word as he carefully pushed himself back, leaving enough room to fit another body. Even then... somehow, Antonio _knew_ what he wanted without having to say a thing. So, as gingerly as he could, Antonio slipped into the empty space on the cushions, lightly chuckling once Lovino pulled him into a hug and snuggled his face into his neck. Oh, how quickly Lovino's heart pulsated behind his ribs, matching the ragged breaths that poured over Antonio's skin like hot steam. The man was so warm, much warmer than he probably should've been, and his stomach kept twitching, as if the source of his aches was clawing at his nerves with poisonous talons, determined to cause as much pain as possible.

This was simply too much for the Spaniard to handle. He absolutely hated seeing his precious Lovi in such dire condition, but to be honest, he had no earthly idea how to fix him. Maybe once Lovino released him, he'd dig through his medicine cabinet and try to find something that could help; _Tylenol_, possibly, if he had any that weren't expired. But right now, he needed to find some other way to keep the aches at bay.

A sultry breath danced out of his lips, carrying the song that his mother often hummed to lull him to sleep those nights he was afraid, or sick. Despite the many years that passed since his last days as a child, he remembered the words well, each one caressing his tongue before gliding into the evening air. Gentle... and serene... They mixed with the chorus of the night, leading it into a gorgeous symphony that washed over the body in his arms and wrapped him in a soothing cocoon of warmth. And when he finished, Lovino's grip tightened, as if to say _thank you_ to the Iberian. From there, they remained silent, simply listening to the other's heart and breaths, if only to reassure something their minds couldn't comprehend.

"Antonio..." Lovino whispered after a few minutes, lightly digging his chin into Antonio's shoulder. After the Spaniard hummed in acknowledgement of being addressed, the brunet continued, "Has it really been _you_ these last few days?"

* * *

><p><strong>Once again, there are probably a few mistakes. These will be fixed before, or as the next chapter is uploaded.<strong>


	10. Can't stop myself before it's too late

**Here is yet another chapter. At this point, and probably for a few more chapters, Gibert's part will mainly be for showing documents and files. This is mainly one of the only reasons he was in the story in the first place (I'm sorry Gil), but he will play a role that is somewhat more significant in the future. And I know that things will probably be a bit confusing in this chapter, but I swear it's for a reason. It's not just me losing every tiny scrap of sanity that is holed up in my brain.**

**As for the first part, it's in first person so you can easily separate the characters. I normally wouldn't do that, but I got too confused at what was happening myself, and I didn't want to give away too many details. I apologize if anyone isn't fond of first person.  
><strong>

**Either way, if there is anything you don't understand, as always, I will try my best to explain it without giving too much away.  
><strong>

**Enjoy~!  
><strong>

* * *

><p>Shivering, ragged breaths streamed from his slightly parted lips, the faint lines of the dying sun doing nothing to wake him from the terrors that pestered him during his much needed rest. Sighing, I watched the quivering man's heat flushed face clinch in pain, and gently wiped away the sweat beading along his brows. He hissed at the tender brush of my fingers against his sweltering flesh.<p>

So fragile. So innocent, this human was. How easily he fell to a little heat mixed with the changes _it_ forced upon him, but leaning over him, I couldn't criticize him too much about his weaknesses. These would only last perhaps a day or so, unlike the ones I would have to suffer through my entire life, and one of those weaknesses was rearing its ugly head. It wouldn't be too much longer until I would be forced to comply to my body's needs, but _he_ still wasn't ready, and trying to initiate what is needed this early would probably result in the desecration of the trust that seemed to be steadily building between us.

But there could be the chance that I would be forced to coerce this crucial instinct upon him. Unlike my mind and my heart, my body wouldn't take no for an answer. If I did try to defy what my body wanted, what it _needed_, I would suffer a terrible fate.

The trembling man beside me curled his body into a loose ball; faint, pain filled moans littered the air around him and he clutched at the sheets I had packed around him in an attempt to cocoon him in comfort. The thin one I soaked in water didn't prove to be helping as much as I would've liked. I wanted the idiot to hurry up and be well again, but I didn't know how to truly lessen his pain. There wasn't a fragment of previous or instinctual knowledge that I could rely on to soothe the brunet, yet, I began to feel as if I had to discredit anything I saw while I was still a youngling. Those memories were already confirmed to be misleading when it came to _this man_.

I leaned over him, brushing away the frail curls sticking to his flesh before I tenderly pressed my lips against the skin directly below his eye. He shivered at the touch, his mouth whispering incomprehensible sounds as I gently curled my body around his, hoping that his affectionate gesture would ease his suffering.

* * *

><p><em>Has it really been <em>_**you**_?...

Of course it was Antonio; who else could it be? "Lovi, Lovi." He gently clinched his arms tighter around the man and nuzzled the soft flesh behind his ear, grinning as he earned a shudder from Lovino, especially once the tip of his nose brushed against something a bit thicker and less flexible than tendrils of hair. He feebly slapped the Spaniard's back in retribution. "I think the heat is making you think strange things."

"Y-You just d-d-don't get it. You never w-will..." Only a grumble vibrated against his shoulder, warmed by the smaller male's haggard breath that dropped down to a mere whisper when he slurred out smothered mumbles. "_It w-w-won't let y-you._"

Antonio sighed. "What, Lovi? What won't let me?" The sickly man pursed his lips together, rather than explaining the meaning of his nonsensical rambles, and buried his head into Antonio's shoulder, which released a festering chuckle from its bonds in the larger brunet's lungs. "That's what I thought." He really was the same state as the Spaniard, wasn't he? Hell, Lovino probably didn't know what he was grumbling about; claiming that _something_ wouldn't let him understand those cryptic murmurs from moments before. How silly. All he needed was a little relaxation, and he'd be in tiptop shape in the morning. "Let those eyes rest, and let me take care of _you_." Lovi had done so much for Antonio already, and it was time for him to repay his cherished one.

At first, Lovino grumbled in retaliation at the Spaniard's suggestion, calling him an idiot for not listening, but soon enough, he gave up and allowed his eyes to flutter shut. The tips of his fingers rubbed gentle circles along the base of Lovino's hairline, caressing the sweltering scalp as his nails twirled the chocolate tendrils into curls before pulling back and beginning the action once more.

It wasn't long before the ill man was sound asleep, his arms gently slipping from their hold around Antonio and his breaths turned deep and ragged. Grinning, he pried himself from the hands of the slumbering form. Lovino groaned under a shuddering sigh once he was out of his reach, fingers clutching humid air in search for the missing source comfort and warmth before he curled around the heat dowsed cushion where Antonio was previously situated. With a last sift of his fingers through Lovi's hair, the emerald eyed Spaniard pivoted around and strolled into the kitchen, those words from the slumbering male ringing in his ears like nails down a chalkboard.

He was right... Antonio really didn't understand what he meant by everything being _him_. Scratching at the back of his head, he searched in the drawers for a rag, preferably one that wasn't soiled with blood. As far as he knew, it _was_ him the entire time, and there wasn't one occasion that he could think of where he wasn't fond of the sick male sleeping on his couch. A bland coloured cloth was offered by one of the lower compartments when he opened it, and it snapped as he slid it shut. So what did he mean? Lovino refused to explain those whispers, or exactly what wouldn't allow him to comprehend them. Ah, but the more he thought about it, the more his head retaliated in pain. "It probably wasn't anything; just the heat corrupting his thoughts." His whisper to himself calmed what little worry bubbled up in his beating heart as he ran water over the cloth, squeezing it to wring out any extra liquid.

Yet, he couldn't fight the sinking sensation that he had forgotten something important.

Shaking his head and turning the water back off, he returned to Lovino's side, kneeling down before the man. So calm and charming, he appeared in his slumber, much less daunting than the constant scowls he released while he was conscious, but a frown pulled Antonio's lips down at the amount of sweat gathering up on Lovino's skin. It trickled from his hairline like water off of stalactites, spotting the couch and clumping up the coffee hued locks that clung to his forehead.

He wiped away what he could with the cloth, keeping a tender touch as he guided it over the dark blotches along Lovino's sternum, and his mind began to wander once more. How long had it been since he first took care of Lovino like this? Weeks? Months? The more he tried to pry back the fog surrounding the memories, the more it thickened, blocking off any attempts he made at uncovering the past occurrences. Returning the rag to the unconscious man's left cheek, his eyes lingered on the three short scars that were slightly obscured by the curling tips of his hair. Brows bowed down in confusion, and later, frustration. He couldn't remember what caused those relatively fresh blemishes upon his darling Lovi's cheek, nor did he know when they were etched into his face. Yet, the longer he stared, the stronger his headache grew, nearly to the point where he had to tear his eyes away from the maddening sight.

This was... he didn't have a word for it. He wanted to wake Lovino up and question him as to why he couldn't clearly remember anything before that morning, and yet, his body refused to listen to his mind, favouring its choice to care for the heaving man instead. Sure, he could've been so sick that his mind couldn't fully comprehend everything that was going on, but a tingle of fear in his heart told him otherwise.

Antonio tried to halt the sweet caresses of his fingers against Lovino's neck. They merely ignored his command, continuing to rub circles in the flesh under his jaw, yet, for a split second, he managed to jerk them away from the smaller male after a few minutes of straining his mind. The Spaniard frowned in frustration, and a memory fluttered across his conscious. Something like this happened in the past, didn't it? He temporarily lost control of his muscles, and bent to Lovino's will while his eyes watched as _something_ took over his movements...but the more he was able to pry away the barrier to his memories, the more that annoying interference fought back. It tried to cover up the memory with that annoying fog, manifesting itself as pain in the rear of the Spaniard's head.

His heart thundered against his ribs, thrusting blood past his ears as a deafening roar accompanied by a high-pitched ring. Lips failed to move on his command when he attempted to speak. Only a rough vibration flicked against the inside of his throat, producing the sensation of metal spoons clicking against each other. The awareness of prickling tightness once again breached the soothing barrier that encased his mind, along with the scuttling pinches of fear he had lived so long without once his eyes drifted down to the hideous, black _stuff_ that tore through the inside of skin.

Doing what it could, his body tried to calm him back down, but it failed. Antonio's fear continued to build up in his blood, throwing his nerves into a tremble as bugs once again began to crawl out from the crimson splattered wall. They screeched at him, clicking their tiny mandibles and feet alike at the man descending deeper and deeper into the depths of panic. "_They're not real. They're not real. __**They're not real**_." His mumbles fell from his lips like prayers, each slurring more and more before they became nothing but a jumbled mess of metallic clatters. He didn't believe that those horrible bugs were real; he _knew_ that they were only a figment of his imagination, but his eyes still refused to break away from the slithering creatures. Pain furled in his stomach and his head, growing and digging its fangs into his flesh. Seizing, his body toppled over into its side, unable to move or tear his attention away from the copious amount of centipedes crawling out of the ceiling and walls.

He couldn't move...

His lungs locked up on him, leaving him gasping for the smallest amounts of air.

Why? _Why_?

A mere syllable of Lovino's name scraped its way from his throat, barely loud enough for Antonio to hear over the blood rushing through his ears. He tried again, but it was weaker. What was this? Why was this happening again? No matter what he did, no matter what words he tried to form in his mouth, nothing halted the quickening stream of insects from tearing through his walls and eventually falling to the floor like rain. They slithered around him, surrounding him like a pack of famished wolves. But just as they reached his skin and he jammed his eyes shut in preparedness for the pain, silence and nothingness met his senses.

Antonio waited for a few moments before he allowed his eyes to crack open. The centipedes were gone, but... a disgusting, rusty paint flaked off of his walls, replacing the natural, grainy wood that should've been visible under the abyssal mist of night. It was almost pitch black in his home, with the lack of windows and the broken bulbs in his light fixtures. They flickered on and off, on and off as he shakily rose to his feet, his breath thickly catching in his throat, streaming into the abruptly chilled air like a mist from a graveyard. Blinking, he shifted his attention from point to point, trying to make out what the hell was happening and if he was still in his home.

"L-Lovi?" There was a sharp rattling echoing from somewhere past the wall of darkness he was sure lead into his hallway, and then another to his right. "W-What's going on?" A wailing, _pain-filled_ scream resonated to his right, sounding awfully familiar to his heart. "Th-These are just hallucinations r-r-right?" The lights brightened to almost blinding levels, flushing the room a sterile white for a split second. Once he blinked, only blackness met his eyes, and the solitary hum reaching his ears was the pounding of his own heart. "L-L-Lovino?" Trembles threw his aim far from where he wanted it as he anxiously couched down, his entire body screaming that everything was wrong. He reached for his only source of comfort, but as he drew his hand back to his chest, fear clamped its steely teeth around his heart. Warm liquid dribbled from his fingers, each droplet carrying the stench of metal and rot, along with the chill of isolation and fright. Antonio reached for the same spot once more, hoping that things would be different this time, but, his heart sank deeper into the pits of panic.

Lovino was gone.

"Lovi! Lovino, where are you!" Rattles from some noise outside his home met his voice instead of the man he wanted to answer him. Antonio quivered against the lip of the couch, tightly holding his blood stained fingers to his chest as his eyes frantically darted across the smothering darkness that shrouded his home like a thick blanket. He was torn, jumping at every tiny noise while snarling at others. Safety, that was what his mind craved, literally begging for him to get out of the house as fast as he could, while his body demanded that he find the missing man.

_No! No! That's not a man! It's a monst-_

Antonio screeched at the voice ringing in his head, pathetic whimpers pouring from his mouth as he begged for it to go away, clamping his hands over his ears. It wouldn't stop wailing, claiming that his darling was a creature born of hell and screaming that he needed to escape. His head was going to burst from the searing pain gnawing at it with molten teeth. Screeching out for Lovino, Antonio attempted to rise to his feet, although he stumbled, falling back onto the floor that squelched as his weight collided with it. His mouth opened like a gaping fish out of water, trying to gulp down what air he could, but viscous substance replacing the rug that was supposed to be under his couch clung to his lips, smothering his attempts to breath. The lowly breeze scraping its way past his arms was stagnant, putrid even, leaving an indescribable odour lingering in his nostrils.

He fought back the goo that tried to hold him into place, and after a while, he finally gained a somewhat study footing on the ground. Glancing around, the slight hope of finding some kind of light furled in his heart, but only darkness met his emerald eyes. He needed to find Lovino. He couldn't just stand here.

Antonio cringed after every step, more and more of that disgusting goo gathering on his feet. Only after a few seconds, it was already drying where it flicked up off of his heel and onto his calves, cracking with every flex of his muscle. He wanted out, back into the land of the light were he could see another living thing. Here, everything felt so... _dead..._despite the thumping beat that fluttered throughout the room like a weak heart. Slow, it was, mesmerizing and frightful, his own heart speeding up at the sound caressing his ears.

He hated it.

The thumps only brought fear to his body, searing claws stabbing at his mind as the horrible sound repeated over, and over, _and __**over**_ in his head, steadily growing harsher and more metallic every passing second. Something like soft whispers brushed past his neck, their garbled words tickling his ears before burning them with icy terror.

As he travelled on, a rusty odour invaded his lungs. He gagged once it curled in the back of his throat like a wad of writhing slugs, his tongue harshly twitching and clinching until he tried to block out the scent with his hands. It failed, much to his disgust, the rotten air seemingly filtering through his skin to torment him. A harsh shriek echoed against the roof of the chamber, each reverb clawing at Antonio's ears as they grew louder and louder, until a thud squelched the ground behind him. He froze, chills running down his goo caked back. There was another resounding boom.

And then another...

And another... growing faster as they drew closer. Antonio pivoted around, making a dash in the opposite direction of the terrible noise.

It chased him, never giving up no matter how frantically Antonio tried to get away. The grating sound intensified, mutating into a metallic screech upon each slap of Antonio's feet against the slimy floor. His breath caught in his throat, no matter how much he tried to properly breathe. Hell, he couldn't breathe _at all_ right now. His lungs screamed for air, trying to claw out of his body if it meant that they could fill up with the oxygen they desperately needed, but he couldn't stop. That noise kept swelling behind him, now nothing more than the screams of heavy iron blades dragging across rust caked floors.

There wasn't a doubt in Antonio's mind that the thing pursuing him would kill him without mercy. His legs already grew tired from having to force his weight off of the sticky tiles below, his head whirling with the lack of oxygen. And then, he tripped, landing face first into the coppery-smelling muck.

Antonio screeched, trying to claw his way out of the disgusting liquid trapping him to the floor. The terrible noise grew louder and louder still, drumming a tune of fear in his heart and ears as he found that he couldn't move. The gunk held him down, _suffocating_ him as it did so with its slimy net. And then, just as the horrible noise was directly above him, everything _stopped_.

* * *

><p>Gilbert stared at the text that had suddenly appeared on his screen and to say the least, an unreadable emotion began to bubble up in his stomach. He thought he recognized it as something akin to fear, but he tried to push them away from his mind; now was not the time to have his emotions take over his mind when he needed to be as sharp as ever. Tapping his finger against the treated wood of his desk, he pondered his next action, or at least something to say to the person beyond the screen. It could've been a trick, a simple lure into dropping his guard or a distraction while some of Eugenic's men snuck into his home, but he had to have a way to get those files.<p>

_**I can give you everything you need, Gilbert. You just need to trust me.**_

Trust him? How? How the hell did Gilbert not know that he was the one who wiped out his hard drive, and _how_ did he know his fucking name? _Who are you_?

_**That is not important. You want to find out about Mr. Vargas, do you not?**_

So... he knew about Lovino. Crimson eyes darkened and his lips tightened into a firm line, distrust already furling in his twisting stomach. This guy, he may have connections to Eugenics, there wasn't a doubt in his mind, but why now? Why ask if he wanted to know about the hot headed Italian? They should already know about that; after all, Gilbert already received a threat to stop prying into the company's database. _Why are you willing to help me_?

_**We have something in common.**_

Staring at the flashing marker, Gilbert leaned back in his chair, listening to it squeak in defiance as he gently rocked his body with his foot. He gnawed at his bottom lip. He didn't like this. Oh, he didn't like this _at all_, but what else could he do? This insatiable need to find Lovino was slowly taking over his life, clawing at his mind every hour he was away from his computer.

_**I can send you files, ones that can't be accessed from the outside.**_

Files... well this caught his attention. Gilbert pressed his lips upon calloused fingers, drawing blood once he chewed harder on the inside of his mouth. Tempting, oh so temping. He drew a breath and clicked out a message in return. _How can I know you're not lying_?

There was a pause, and then a beep. A folder popped up on his screen, quickly followed by an image signalling that an unnamed document of some sort was being sent directly to his computer from an outside source. Once it completed, it opened on its own.

_Date- 03-08-13_

_Half of the reserves have been depleted, and only 20 remain. Out of the 15 that have been used, only two have successfully hatched, and only one of those two emerged into the adult stage. It is estimated that subject KH05103109 will not be a possible match, due to several complications during the testing stage, including premature death. Once the subject is able to walk, it will be presented to subject Queen01._

_We speculate that there needs to be a change in certain tests that are administered to the subjects, in hopes that their DNA will be fully compatible with subject Queen01's eggs. Once we find the optimal sequence of these tests that create a match for Queen01, we will begin tests to match Queens of the second generation together, and then move on to stage four of the project._

That was all? Really? Gilbert read the short file once again, growing increasingly confused with every word his eyes skimmed over. All of that talk of matches and queens... he didn't understand. _Is that it?_ There was a short moment before text appeared on his screen.

_**The file was shortened so it would be less likely to be seen as a threat to the company. Only the important information was included.**_

Gilbert snorted; important, maybe, yet unclear enough to leave him guessing. Anyway, it seemed that whoever this was _could_ be trustworthy, but he still needed to tread on careful feet before making any huge moves. _What is this Queen thing_?

_**A weapon. That is all you need to know right now. In time, you will learn more.**_

A cold chill scraped its nails down his back, sending tremors across his body. They were making weapons... biological weapons, and it looked like they were trying to find a way to make them replicate. Several extras keys were pressed by quaking fingers, and they were quickly erased as he cursed at his clumsiness. _Who are you making the weapons for_?

_**That's not important.**_

Fine. _Do you have anything on Lovino?_

_**Plenty**_.

Oh, he could hear the laughter vibrating from that single word, and how it enraged him. _Give me everything you have._

_**Patience, Gilbert. There are clearances that have to be made within the files.**_

Rolling his crimson eyes, Gilbert propped his chin up on a balled fist. Of course it wouldn't be as easy as he would've wanted; it was never that simple. Hopefully whoever this was understood that Lovino needed to be found as soon as possible. His life was in jeopardy, and any moment could be his last. _Alright, then what can you give me?_

There was another beep that echoed through his speakers. Once again, that little window with the loading bar popped up in his screen, the pale container filling with blue as the document was transferred over to his hard drive. As he waited, he leaned back in his chair, his jaw tightly clinched and his eyes firmly fixed on the screen before him. This person... who is he, or she for that matter. This was dangerous, what they were doing; possibly something that could cost them their life, so why were they doing it? Cracks popped from Gilbert's fingers as he squeezed them, pondering if he should pry deeper into their reasoning behind all of this.

Maybe they knew Alfred, and wanted him to pay for what he got Lovino into... or maybe they just wanted to see the company fall. Either way, Gilbert had no complaints. Like the file before it, the document opened up once it was finished downloading.

A video materialized before the German's eyes, picturing Lovino's face. Bored olive eyes peered into the camera he was surely looking at, and his previous civilian clothing was replaced with a cream-coloured garb that made it appear as if he was a patient at a hospital with horrible taste. Lovino sighed, dragging a dark splotched hand through hair that needed a good washing. "What is it...August? September? Hell, fuck if I know. They don't tell me shit." He slouched very un-Lovino-like, especially after the hot headed Italian grumbled when the thing failed to move on his command. The thing was probably bolted to the ground. "They took Heracles away yesterday evening." Brows creased over sleep deprived eyes, and a grimace tugged at his lips. "Poor bastard was getting pretty bad. Wouldn't stop shaking, or coughing... I liked the guy. He was interesting, the few times he was awake."

Heracles... Heracles... Gilbert recognized that name. He was a long time pal of Kiku, who also went missing a few years back, and as he slowly churned words in his mind, his heart sank. That man was probably dead, never knowing that his mother died of a heart attack only two years ago.

Lovino visibly shuddered, throwing a quick glance at the empty cot behind him. "Those white coated freaks wouldn't let me in when they got him, but I still saw them drag him out." Another comb of fingers unraveled the tangles in his hair. "Heracles was unconscious when they took him, even though his eyes were open. It was just... fuck, why am I talking about this?" He returned his attention to the camera, blinking a few times before huffing. "I...I miss you, you know. Alfred told me that he'd give these tapes to you every week, so I shouldn't fill it with shit you don't care about."

Pausing, his eyes lowered until they were staring at the sterile desk jutting out at the bottom of the video. "He has been sending you that money, right? I better not get out of here and find out that he wasn't, because if I do, I'll kill the fucking bastard." Air sifted through his nostrils, and lids slipped closed over his eyes. His head lowered between his shoulders. "He also said that he'd give me your replies to what I tell you." Another pause and he bit at his bottom lip, chewing it with uncertainty and a tinge of pain. "But I haven't gotten anything in return. Nothing... Even after thirty videos. At first, I thought the bastard was holding out on me, but then... then I began to think that you simply don't care. That's fine, if that's the truth. After all of this, there probably won't be much left of me to care for."

Lovino forced his lips into a smile, but he was given away by how the corners trembled in misery. "I won't stop what I'm doing, and no matter what anyone says, I'm going to stick with this. You need that money, Feli. You know we can't cover the costs of the tra-nhashee-," the video flickered, distorting Lovino's face as static accompanied with a high-pitched ring garbled out his words. He kept talking, his mouth blurred out to the point where it looked like he barely had one, and after a few seconds of this mess, the entire transmission returned to its previous clarity. "-th those Mafia bastards taking away everything that grandpa makes." As he paused to recollect himself, a mechanically feminine voice came over the intercom.

_All class A personnel please report to test chamber 308. I repeat, all-_

"Damn bastards. They do that shit in the middle of the night." Well that explained the dark circles under the Italian's eyes, and the slight paled hue to his skin. Gilbert leaned a little closer to the screen, crimson eyes squinting to try to pick out the smallest detail of the Italian slightly blurred by the quality of the video and the screen. Yet, before he could draw anything from the mess before him, Lovino leaned back in his chair, tightly pressing overlapping arms against his chest. "You probably want to know how I've been doing, huh?" Olive eyes closed, and a weak sigh fluttered from slightly parted lips. "It hasn't been too bad. Alfred comes by every once in a while to keep me company and tells me how everyone is doing. The fat fuck also gives me some decent food whenever they serve shit in the cafeteria. They need better fucking cooks.

"Other than that, I've been bored as hell. It's like a prison here. You wake up when they tell you, you eat when they tell you, go do those stupid tests, eat, and then sleep. Hell, they don't even have a fucking courtyard where I can get some fresh air. When I'm not eating or doing as they say, I'm stuck here in this stupid room." He broke off into a series of grumbles and huffs, recounting something about still not having books and constantly losing to Alfred in games of chess. A grimace broke across his lips as he idly scratched at his side, brows furrowed and hisses streaming from his teeth. "I hate those pills; those nasty, tiny blue things. They leave welts and bruises all over my chest, and dammit, those things itch all of the fucking time."

Lovino tugged at the collar of the garb covering his body, exposing dark blotches that stained his clavicle, extending down to what Gilbert assumed would be his ribs. "They appeared two days ago, but they don't hurt, so you don't have to worry Feli. They're just side effects, and the researchers say that they're nothing to worry about."

Another fake smile graced his lips as he smoothed his shirt out. Leaning forward, his misty eyes stared directly into the camera. "They're going to make you better, Feli. You won't have to go to the hospital anymore." Lovino's mouth opened, but it closed before he made a sound. He chewed on his bottom lip, his eyes clinched shut as he drew a deep breath from the bottom of his lungs. "I love you. Never forget that, so don't throw your life away if..," his voice cracked, and tears leaked from his eyes. "I-If I don't come back."

The video cut out at that point, leaving Gilbert with a black box on his screen, and fear in his heart. Lovino... he... Those were only the first tests, he was sure, and they were already causing horrible bruises across his flesh, along with those welts that were probably the beginnings of rashes. _Bad_ rashes. There was no telling what kind of state he was in now.

Gilbert closed out the window along with the text file from before, and pulled up the chat box again. That curser menacingly blinked at the German, taunting him as his hands quaked. The poor Italian, and oh god his brother. He knew something was off with Feliciano, but hospital visits? Money? Why didn't anyone ever tell him about that? Nails bit into the soft flesh of his palm, digging deeper and deeper until droplets of blood splattered on his keyboard, and his shirt once he bit at his thumb. He couldn't fight off the terrible sense that something absolutely _revolting_ happened to Lovino, and from what Feli claimed, his older brother probably spent all of those years hold up in Eugenic's labs believing that his sweet sibling didn't give a rat's ass about him.

Lovino never knew how broken Feliciano became; how _fake_ everything about him became after he left.

More. He needed to know more about Lovino. Every video, every file he got, he was one step closer to finding Vargas' whereabouts. Maybe he could find a clue that could hint to the location, or perhaps Lovino would leave a clue, but for now, he had to rely on who was behind the black text flashing on his screen.

_**Do you wish to see the tests?**_

To be honest, he didn't. He already witnessed the effects; that horrible... red skinned creature made of little more than bones. Blood. Despair. Those images wouldn't leave him be, but, if what the person said was true, then he would be stuck with an early test until they could bypass the clearances. _Just one for now._ He didn't need another sleepless night.

_**It's early. March 7, 2011.**_

God... He... he just couldn't. Another beep and another loading bar. It filled up to blue, nearly matching the pace of Gilbert's thundering heart before it beeped once again. A video popped up on his screen, holding the image of Lovino standing in a bleach white room. Fingers shot up to Gilbert's mouth, muffling the shuddering gasp that ripped through his lungs as his eyes ghosted over the flesh tightly stretched over a thinning frame spotted with lacerations, bruises and too many discolorations to count. He...he looked _horrible_. What were those monsters giving him?

A scowl curved his lips into a firm downward line, fierce determination practically radiating from his bowed up chest and the concrete stance his body formed, matching the fire raging in glare directed towards the white-clothed men and women in the corner. "So what's it going to be today?" He growled out, taking only a second to glance behind him before he slipped into the high chair in the centre of the room.

"Something new, Mr. Vargas," the blond man answered with a kind voice, smiling as he pushed his glasses up a straight nose with a gloved middle finger. He, no, make that _Alfred_, sauntered over to Lovino, keeping a gentile face and a tight grip on the clipboard in his arms. "How are you feeling today, Lovino?"

The Italian scoffed at Alfred's friendliness, keeping his eyes trained on the others in the room rather than the man next to him. "What do you fucking think?" A chuckle vibrated from the American's throat, and he gently laid the clipboard on the metal table beside his "patient". Hands carefully prodded at Lovino's flesh and bones, blue eyes intently watching for any signs of pain.

"Has anything else popped up?" Lovino kept his attention locked on those extra men in the corner. "Lovin-"

"I don't want them in here."

Alfred's brows disappeared over the rim of his glasses and under straw tendrils, but they soon matched the fierceness of Lovino's. He snapped his eyes to the other scientists. "You. All of you. Get out." A lone finger pointed to the door. "You're not needed." The group shared glances with each other, their voices low as they mumbled to the people around them. "I said GET OUT!" They bowed, and then quickly shuffled out of the room at the bellowing roar of the massive American.

Once the doors locked behind them, Lovino finally allowed his eyes to meet Alfred's. The blond tried to force a smile for the battered Italian, but it quickly melted away as Lovino sighed, turning his left arm to expose several red rings that extending from the inside of his upper arm to below his elbow. "These formed last night."

Instantly, Alfred was at work gently turning his appendage in the light in to get a better look, a perplexed gleam in his eyes. "Do they hurt?"

"No. They just itch."

Alfred frowned, scuttling over to his clipboard, where he quickly scribbled unreadable words. "What else?"

Lovino sighed out a hum, neatly folding his hands in his lap. "Just nausea and some headaches."

"How bad?"

"About a six out of ten." The German assumed that Alfred was scratching down what Lovino told him every time his pen moved and his eyes switched down to the clipboard on the table. The brunet leaned forward in his chair, Gilbert mimicking him, his attention focused _only_ on the video. "So..," he paused, waiting for Alfred to stop writing. "What is this new test?" Glasses glimmered in the bright light pouring down from the ceiling as the American looked up.

He shoved his hand into one of the pockets of his lab coat; Lovino's eyes watching him pull out a small, black case. "These will be once every two weeks, on top of your pills."

"Those things taste like shit, you know."

Alfred snapped the case open, lightly chuckling at Lovino's less than aggressive words. "I know, I know. They won't let me give you anything else but water to chug them down."

Olive eyes rolled to the heavens. "Slip me some wine or something, you cheap bastard. You've been holding out on me."

Alfred smirked. "The only wine I can afford is American made."

"Then it better be fucking gin."

A chortle bubbled from both of their lungs, pleasantly surprising Gilbert. He never would've guessed that the two were actually _friendly_ with each other during this, especially after a year's worth of tests and pain. Lovino extended his arm when Alfred motioned with his hands and opened a small packet stashed away in one of the drawers in the table he was standing by. A small patch of skin on the inside of Lovino's shoulder was the focus of Alfred's care, gently cleaned by the white cloth produced from the packet. Lovino frowned in confusion. "Disinfectant? What, are there going to be needles involved now?" The American didn't answer; his face oddly cold in contrast to the bright smile that it used to hold. "_Shit_..."

"I'm sorry. You know I would rather have you stay on the pills." He tossed the used cloth in the bin built into the table as his lips twisted into a line radiating with guilt, and his voice dropped to a scrawny whisper. "I'd rather not have you here at all." Alfred slipped a syringe out of the velvet lined case, and gently tapped it, keenly watching the purple liquid slosh around.

Lovino remained quiet, his eyes fixed upon the floor rather than the man readying the needle. He sighed, knowing what was to come. Not a word was shared between them as the sharp point pierced his flesh, although Gilbert hissed and cringed in place of the Italian. Ugh, that was a huge needle, and Lovino was taking that thing like a man. He just sat there, frowning as usual while not paying one bit of attention to the purple liquid that was being pumped into his muscle.

Once the chamber in the syringe was empty, Alfred retracted it. "Rotate your shoulder. It will reduce any pain that might occur."

Obeying his command, Lovino rolled his eyes and huffed. "So, what are the side effects of this one?"

There was a hesitation to Alfred's response before he actually answered the question, his attention anywhere but on the man in the chair. "I don't know." After tucking the syringe back into the case, he returned to Lovino's side with an adhesive bandage in his hand. "This is a new solution, and the head of the department hasn't shared the details."

Scoffing, Lovino stilled his shoulder long enough for the bandage to be applied to the minuscule wound. "And _why_ aren't you the chairman yet? Don't tell me that your fat ass isn't qualified to lead these tiny brained dipshits." Alfred burst out into a roaring chortle at sneer of the brunet.

"I'm working on it, you know." He brightly smiled, turning his back momentarily to scribble on his clipboard. "And that's it; you're done for this week. By the way, do you like your band-aid?"

Upon glancing down, Lovino scowled at the bright green strip, riddled with equally bright red tomatoes. "You little shit! Now you're just teasing me!" The blue eyed American grinned, offering a hand to Lovino just before the video cut out.

Gilbert sighed. It definitely wasn't what he was expecting in the end, considering he expected there to be blood, screaming and unspeakable horrors. Instead, it was like a regular shot a doctor would give a patient, and that doctor was a close friend rather than a hated enemy. If that person was only going to send him important details, then why did they send him this? There had to be another important test that didn't require many clearances, right? Yet, as he closed the video in order to question the motive of the person behind the screen, he found the screen to be blank.

The chat box was missing, and no matter how long he searched for the program, he couldn't find it. "Damn it!" He screeched through clinched teeth, slamming both fists down on his table, and earning a concerned yell from his brother downstairs. Great... just fucking fantastic.

* * *

><p><em>I smell him...<em>

_So young... so strong. He almost ready. Yes...yes...Soon, I have mate. Need to escape. Need to find. _

_He not far... scent stronger. But there is other there... other like me..._

_Must die... will not have mate._

_Mine..._

_Mine..._

_He mine. _


	11. Now it's left me blind

**This is a somewhat long chapter, although there isn't a Gilbert part this time. Sorry, but this chapter had basically one major point that was _supposed_ to be at the end of the last chapter, but... yeah. It was moved to this one.**

**I hope this chapter doesn't disappoint. Enjoy~  
><strong>

* * *

><p><em>I can't wait much longer.<em>

_The encroaching toxins, I can already feel them._

_I don't have time left... but he's still not ready._

_His smell is so tempting, constantly trying to lure me to indulge myself in primal urges._

_I can't fight this much longer._

* * *

><p>Antonio's eyes flared open as a screech poured from his lips, jerking someone awake behind him. Pain filled his senses... a burning pain only intensified by the heat stifling every inch of skin across his body, blurring out his sight, and masking over his sense of smell. He couldn't hear what someone was shouting to him under his own roaring voice, even when the smaller man pulled him over onto his back and held him down by his shoulders.<p>

_L-L-Lovino?_

His screams caught in his throat; his eyes wide as he barely made out the panicking olives staring him down and the frantically pulsating specks of red under them. But how? Lovino was on the couch... _sick_! How did he get here, and _where_ was he? He blinked, squeezing his eyes shut before opening them as much as he could, each time his world becoming a tiny bit clearer.

He was in his room; windows, pictures, door and everything else that was supposed to be there, including his dear Lovino, who was clutching his head between his palms and whispering frantic words to the Spaniard. "_It's okay, shhhhh. Shhhh. It was only a dream._" Dream? It couldn't be... everything was too vivid to be a mere dream! "Listen to me," Lovino whispered, pressing their foreheads together, "it was only a _dream_. You're safe."

Fingers combed through Antonio's sweat clumped curls as those whispers continued to ooze onto his lips, swirling around the top of his tongue like the nails gently caressing his scalp while his heart continued to hammer in his chest. This... was this real? How could he tell anymore? "H-How do I know... that this isn't a d-dream...?" He muttered shakily. His fingers lightly clinched the sheets surrounding him, one of them cold and damp. "E-Everything seemed so... so _real_."

"Antonio, you've been hallucinating." Lovino tried to explain to the blurry eyed Spaniard as he straitened his back. His lips tightly pressed together, forming a firm line that contrasted the deep furrowing of his brows. "Your mind must have decided to fuck you over while you were asleep." How kind of him to state that so nonchalantly. Well, at least this Lovino, real or not, certainly had his personality. That, in itself, was reassuring. "Anyway," the smaller brunet eased himself off of the freshly awoken Spaniard, planting his feet upon the floor. "Your temperature is still a little high, and you need water." He crossed the room, keeping his arms folded across his belly, and for a moment, Antonio swore that he saw the man cringe, nearly tripping over his own toes before he paused at the door. Only a small glance was spared to the Spanish man before Lovino exited the room.

He sighed, his eyes flicking across the walls, bouncing from point to point until they landed in his hands. _It looks like my room._ Antonio flexed his fingers, bringing them up to his face and curling them in the smouldering beams of dying light pouring through the window behind him. The flesh around the cat-like claws was smooth, almost perfect; nothing like the flaked mess it was who knows how long ago. Emeralds shifted down to his feet, and the same was true. Perfectly silky flesh. No shiny black surface peeking out from non-existing cuts, only that constricting sensation that seemed to be trying to suffocate him day in and day out, and just to make sure, Antonio trailed one of his claws down his foot. Instantly, he jerked his hand back, hissing at the blood dribbling out of the tiny incision.

_Well, the pain's real._ Antonio brought his nail up to his face, lightly dabbing a droplet of blood on his tongue. Metallic... like iron, to be specific. _Tastes like blood too_. He frowned, allowing his hands to flop down by his sides as a sigh danced on his tongue. _I still can't tell if this is real_. A bright red glowed to his left, its beams bouncing off of the walls, not at all retaining the outline of origin. He squinted, trying to make out the tiny crimson numbers blinking on his clock.

_8:37? July...erm...28?_

But how? Sighing, Antonio carefully lowered his head onto his plush cocoon of pillows and blankets, his fingers rubbing at the headache stabbing at his temples. So it was a dream? That was the only logical answer _why_ the time apparently rewound; either that, or he was dreaming now.

Not that this one was bad.

He much preferred this potential illusion over the last. His skin was intact, Lovino was much healthier, missing that ear grating wheeze that distorted his breath and those dark splotches sensitive to Antonio's touch. That, in itself, was much better, even though it was now Antonio's lungs that were being less than cooperative. He gently pressed a hand against his belly, hissing as he felt something air-filled press against his ribs and his diaphragm, but soon, the sensation extended down to his navel, where it furled under his bellybutton. With his nails, he followed the tingle, his brows knotting together in bewilderment. Instead of the tiny indention of his skin that he expected, a single line was present atop his belly, but before he had the chance to slip his claws between the tight folds of flesh, a clatter in the kitchen caught his attention.

Quick, emerald eyes snapped to the source of the sound, sharply staring at the wall as his ears listened for another disturbance in the hushed twilight. At first, there was nothing; only the mating calls of insects scattered through the forest, yet the sound of shattering glass and a swear soon pricked his ears, followed by a few more curses and then another crash.

Antonio ignored the chill shooting up his legs when he planted his feet securely on the chilly floor. A soft grunt scraped along his teeth, matching the groan of his mattress as he dug his hands into its lip and pushed his weight up. He limped toward the door, his arm heavily leaning against the frame once he reached it. So his joints were still rather stiff, huh? The Spaniard sighed through his nostrils, his forehead lightly knocking on the beams supporting his body and his tired eyes peering through the darkness hovering like fog in his home.

His lips curled up in distaste. There wasn't one bit of the familiar chill settling in the nerves embedded in his skin that he liked. He already had to go through something vaguely similar not that long ago, and be it reality or a dream; he didn't want to live through it again. Using the wall as a makeshift prop, Antonio quietly made his way down the hall, keeping his eyes focused on the direction of the sound of running water and the sweeping of bristles against hard flooring. "Fucking piece of shit!" A smile tugged the corners of his lips at the rumbling growls of his sweetheart, and it only grew when he passed by the half wall, those enticing markings standing out in the darkness like blood on alabaster snow.

With his weight leaning upon crossed arms pressing against the barrier between the den and dining area, Antonio amiably grinned at how flustered his dear Lovino was. Such a storm of snarls, he was, apparently not able to properly use the broom tightly clutched between lissom fingers. "What are you getting mad at, Lovi?"

Lovino flinched at the sudden purring of Antonio's voice, his head snapping around with that insistent frown etched into his lips and brows. "Shut your damn face." Ah~ this was _much_ better than the Lovino in his "dream". The stippled male glared down at the floor. "I dropped one of your.. _things_."

Antonio quietly simpered at the roiled male, his head heavy in his hand. It amused him, Lovino's impatience with man-made objects. It reminded the Spaniard of himself. Not only that, but the cups probably became broken by the sheer want of desiring to return to his side as quickly as possible with water at hand. How cute and admirable. "It's okay, Lovi." He smiled once more, lightly grunting as he limped closer to his scowling roommate. There certainly was a mess at Lovino's feet, but it didn't seem that he managed to step on any of the shards. "Here," blunt fingers gently brushed over thinner ones, taking the broom away from the frowning man. "I'll clean it up. Go sit down, okay?"

Lovino scoffed at the Spaniard's candied smile, and rolled his eyes, but he still listened. The legs of the stool scraped against the floor as he pulled it away from the kitchen island and sat atop the counter, his feet resting upon the cushions of the chair. Folding his hands together, those amber eyes quietly observed the broom sweep back and forth, pushing the glass into a small heap. "You should be resting, not in here doing this shit."

"Moving around helps pain too, Lovi." Antonio lightly chuckled as he searched the bottom of his storage space for his pan, his smile widening at Lovino's snort. "Besides," he continued, pulling piece of plastic from the back of the cabinet, "there's something I wanted to check on."

"Feh. Whatever, bastard." His snarl was empty, lacking the vigour that would usually saturate his voice as he slid down to properly sit on the stool. Well, it was true. Something about the cooled behaviour of the man with his head heavy in his hand bothered the Spaniard. Shards of glass clinked and clattered against each other under the sway of the broom's bristles, collecting up in the back of the pan. Without moving his head, Antonio peered through the curls hanging over his brows. A cold chill shimmied down his nerves. So predatory, those eyes were, half lidded and practically locked on the Spaniard's body; they watched every diminutive twitch of his hands, every _breath_ that dripped from his lips, and only when Antonio properly looked up did the nearly trance-like break.

A frown pulled at the corners of Antonio's mouth. "Lovi, is there something wrong?"

"The hell you talking about?"

Antonio stood, momentarily turning to throw the glass fragments away. "It's just... Something seems _off_ about you." And he didn't know what it was. For all he knew, his mind was playing tricks on him again, blending the already thin line between his dreams and reality, but he still couldn't shake the unnerving feeling that welled up in his stomach.

A soft huff puffed from Lovino's lips and he hopped down from the stool. "You're just sick. There is nothing wro-agmh..ah." The very moment his weight pressed down on his legs, his voice clogged-up his throat, and his hands instantly shot for his belly as if it was the source of his apparently "non-existent" pain. Yet, once he realized what has happening, a scowl replaced the panic-struck curves contorting his face. It was already too late. Antonio was already at his side, fear thundering through his veins.

His sweet Lovino was ill, and he _knew_ that it wouldn't be long until he was reduced to the wheezing mess that manifested in his feverous conscious.

Antonio eased his hands around Lovino's body after he turned the running water off, surprised that the man actually accepted the offered help. "Go lie down in my room, alright?" He kept his voice soft, just like his touch as he gently pulled one of Lovino's hands away from his bel- He froze, his eyes widening. This... this was familiar.

"I don't need to lie down, i-idiot. I'm _fine_."

No... nonono. He _wasn't_ fine, and Antonio certainly wasn't going to take any chances. Slipping his hand under Lovino's shoulder, the Spaniard hoisted the smaller male up by sheer arm strength alone and practically dragged the man out of the kitchen. Grunts and curses alike hissed in Antonio's ear, Lovino's weight heavy against his body. He tried to walk with the taller man's wobbly steps, but all he managed to do was to throw the two off balance, forcing Antonio to rely on the wall to keep them from tumbling over into the floor. Chills of trepidation coursed through his veins like waves. It took everything he had to keep himself from simply pushing Lovino into a wall to check his stomach for any web-like bruises, or any sensitivity to his flesh. He didn't want that darkness again. Those noises... The _voices_ screaming at him that everything was nothing but a lie.

Although without much help from the cussing man, they made it into their bedroom, pausing only for Antonio to readjust Lovino's weight. "Let me go, f-fucker. I can walk on my own."

"Patience, my dearest." He breathily chuckled at the irritated groan that scratched at Lovino's mouth. Small steps were taken, each growing more anxious and exhausted until they reached the bed. As gently as he could, Antonio lowered Lovino onto the mattress, and rolled him over onto his back; his fingers lingered on the smaller brunet's belly. Nothing... thankfully. Only the branching arms of the moon graced his flesh.

Yet, as Antonio gratefully sighed and laid himself down beside the lighter haired brunet, he couldn't prevent wondering thoughts from entering his mind. Lovino, only a day before, he constantly asked Antonio if his stomach hurt. And now, he pondered the source of the question. A breath held long overdue filtered through shell pink lips, its owner's eyes drifting over to the man trying to pull himself further up on the bed. Stomach... it was always the stomach he asked about. Was it because his ached?

Antonio smiled once Lovino comfortably situated himself against the pillows at the top of the bed, his amber eyes heavy with languor as they stared at the spider webs collecting on the ceiling. He sighed, allowing those eyes to flutter closed. The Spaniard continued to gaze at the man. Beautiful was the only word that properly fit the moon-touched glow that shimmered off of Lovino's flesh, gracefully highlighting the drips and curves of his muscles while the celestial fingers caressed the nearly heart-like beats of the specks embedded in his shoulders. Deep gulps of air danced with light feet from his lips, lightly brushing against his teeth to form a soft hiss that fluttered amidst the hums of the night. With his arms, Antonio pulled himself up to Lovino, his body already curling around the smaller form.

"Lovi... I have something that I want to ask you." At first, he only received a grunt and a twitch of a muscle, but soon enough, Lovino turned over to his side with a wavering glower set upon trembling brows. Teeth chewed at the inside of his lips, twirling the words on the top of his tongue. "It's about...erm... _before_."

Brows creased over perplexed olives; lips down below curving into a deeper frown. "What are you going on about now?"

Lovino's belly flinched when Antonio gently pressed his hand on the warm expanse of flesh, his thumb lovingly caressing circles into the blunt ridges identical to the ones that poked out of his own belly. "I know something is wrong. _Something_ is hurting you." His hand trailed over to the smaller back, and he pulled him closer. "You don't have to shoulder all of it on your own. So please," his whisper stroked Lovino's cheeks as his nose nestled itself in his hair, "tell me what's wrong."

A scoff leaped from that cherry tongue caged between pearly fangs. "That's not much of a question, moron."

"I know it's not." Arms circled around shoulders tense with tinges of pain, embracing him with a cocoon of adoration. "You kept asking me about my stomach last night. Over..." His fingers tiptoed up Lovino's neck, "...and over." They buried themselves in his soft hair and soothingly scratched at the scalp they were perched on, drawing out a light shiver from his dear Lovino. Soon enough, Antonio felt hands creep up his back; the tips of its nails drew circles on his spine before they flattened, pulling their bodies closer together. "It made me think that you asked that because _your_ stomach was hurting."

Lovino snuggled his head in the dip of Antonio's shoulder. "Just go to sleep." A frown tugged at Antonio's mouth. In his mind, that was pretty much a confirmation of his worries, even if he didn't count how tense Lovino had become over the past few minutes. He really didn't say much after huffing at what he always called Antonio's stupidity; he simply curled against the soft heat the Iberian radiated, and then stared at nothing in particular. That usual frown distorted such a pretty face.

He always seemed so angry, so _furious_ at everything, almost as if he had nothing but horrible memories playing behind closed lids. There had to be something he could do to make that mask crumble.

In the silence that enveloped the two, Antonio thought back to the vivid dream that caught his eyes only an hour before as he gently brushed away the tresses of hair lingering on Lovino's brows. That question still lingered in his mind amidst the distress ravaging his nerves.

_Is it really you_?

It bothered him, how he reacted in the nightmare. So frantic and filled with insanity, he acted, almost as if something actually had taken over his body. Thinking back, he could remember the memories his dream self couldn't; those scars along the Lovino's cheek were caused when he fell down outside, and the time he apparently lost control of his body was nothing but a fragment of a previous dream. It was clear now, and all of those worries were simply a blip in coherent thought of his mind. There was nothing to worry abou-

_Wr...ng..._

A flash of pain stabbed at Antonio's head from the voice that flickered in his ears, and he winced once that pain hit him again, rippling down his nerves. Lovino caught the sudden hitch in his breath. "What is it?"

_Mo...ster..._

_He...m...nst...r_

The pain grew, balling up behind his eyes before it tore through the back of his skull. "There's... a voice."

"Voice?" Fingers brushed against still somewhat feverous cheeks, turning his face so Lovino could easily search his eyes for something beyond the Spaniard's comprehension. "What is it saying?" W-What? A shuddering breath jittered from his lips, slight disbelief wrapping around his slowly draining mind. Why the hell would it matter what the voice was saying? Yet, Lovino's determination to know failed to waver from the burning flame behind his lashes, his fingers now cupping Antonio's cheeks. "Bastard, _tell m-_"

_Take... con...trol... Don't let __**it **__rule you._

Pain flooded Antonio's senses, its steely teeth tearing into his nerves, digging deeper and deeper until the wounds festered with icy heat. He shrieked, overpowering the cries of the insects outside his home, and not a second later, Lovino was frantically trying to calm him with every weapon he had at his disposal. It didn't matter what he tried; cooing, pushing him onto his back, gently patting his face, nothing worked. If anything, the pain intensified, that voice begging louder and louder until it was roaring in his mind, drowning out every other sound as his eyes watered from the combined intensity of the shrieks and the pain.

_Fig..t it... don't give in..._

He didn't understand. The voice was only a hallucination, right? Then why, _why_ did it cause him so much pain? Even those bugs that erupted from his _body_ didn't hurt nearly this much...didn't reduce him to a writhing pile of meat desperate for relief. He could see Lovino shouting at him, his eyes wide with fear. Panic... it was gripping the poor man as too, huh? He kept slapping at Antonio's face with the back of his hand, cupping his fingers around his cheeks and shaking like a leaf caught in a windstorm.

_Ploy. It's only a tri...k..._

Shut up! Just shut up! He didn't want to hear it anymore! It was lying, trying to fool him!

It was only a hallucination! A lie!

Antonio screamed in agony, arching to the ceiling as his nails dug into the sheets surrounding him. There was so much heat clawing at his flesh, trying to eat him alive as those voices continued to screech at him, getting louder and louder with every passing moment. It wouldn't be long until they overtook him, despite Lovino's attempts to calm him down. So close, he was, his nose pressing against Antonio's so hard that the pressure broke through the wall of pain ensnaring his mind with an iron grip.

_Help...me..._

_Fight __**it**__._

_Don't... let __**that parasite **__control us anymore._

He froze, the pain gone, his eyes trembling with tears and his nails tightening their hold on the blankets. The parasite? Th-that terrible thing that was forced into his system when he first laid eyes on the creature pinning him down... that moved his body as it pleased, forcing him to practically cherish the _monster _that snared his freedom between icy teeth of dismay and amnesia.

The same parasite that locked away his _real_ mind, shadowing it with a false reality.

_Oh_ god... oh fuc-

Only a sharp sting to the side of his head managed to hammer through the darkness enveloping him, his vision growing blurry as a voice weakly fluttered into his ears before there was nothing.

"_I'm sorry. I'm so sorry..."_

* * *

><p><em>I hate hurting him. I don't think <em>_**he**__ realises that, but I can't help it. __**He**__ was back, I could tell from that deep red burning behind his jade eyes, so I had to move him. I need him somewhere he couldn't hurt himself until __**it**__ regained permanent control. Hopefully, it wouldn't be too long. I just want him to be happy, not startled and livid._

_I really adore him, even though he is a dumb bastard. His potency, his powerful instincts to survive; they're more than I could ever ask for in a companion. I can practically taste the pheromones, the __**aggression**__, wafting off his body like rippling waves, and they encase me in a struggle to hold back, leaving my body motionless as my eyes lock on every breath that flutters from his parted lips. I can't... not yet. I don't want to hurt him, nor do I want to frighten him more than I already have._

_The poison is already boiling in my system...forming black bruises on my stomach and a cold chill under my flesh. It's spreading... more and more as the hours pass, and night turns into dawn._

* * *

><p>It was far too late for Arthur's liking when he finally pushed his apartment door open with the tip of his good shoes, the darkness hovering in his home welcoming him like a long lost lover. Those insufferable idiots kept him holed up in that stuffy security centre writing up the report of when those prissy scientists conducted an autopsy of the last live specimen they had pinned in one of those horribly white rooms. Unfortunately, they managed to drag Alfred into it and forced him to perform most of the cuts into her gynandromorphic body while his blond partner behind the camera documented every single one of his movements and her characteristics.<p>

A small puff of air escaped both his mouth and the folder he tossed onto the kitchen island before shutting the door behind him, grumbling to himself as he languidly tugged his shoes off with his feet. Leaving them by the unlocked door, he staggered into his living room, heading straight for the couch. Alfred was already spread across it, his hair torn from its usual preened sleekness; dishevelled and oddly cute for the tall American, straw tresses lightly dancing from the soft snores humming from parted lips. Arthur gently smiled and sat on the edge of the sofa, right by the man's legs.

He had to be exhausted, both physically and emotionally. It wasn't much of a secret that their bosses believed he was the main culprit behind _thirty's_ disappearance, and the autopsy was simply a punishment.

Those bastards _knew_ how much it tore the soft-hearted man's heart when it was Lovino up on that cold metal table, and Arthur had to experience it firsthand. He remembered that night like he remembered the very first day he met the love of his life; it almost as if he had a movie playing behind his tired, green eyes. Alfred came home utterly in hysterics that night and locked himself in their bedroom, crying his eyes out as he wailed that he was sorry over, and _over_, his tears louder than the rain that thundered on the roof and windows. He wouldn't eat... he wouldn't share a cup of tea with his European roommate... not until he received the news that the _last_ egg had successfully hatched.

Grumbling and slurring incomprehensible murmurs against dry teeth, Alfred shifted around, curling his toes into the warmth of Arthur's thigh. "You little twit," the Englishman whispered, tenderly laying his hand on the overgrown child's feet. "You're much too innocent to be doing these harsh chores." But did he really have any other choice? He joined the company at a young age in hopes of saving thousands of lives, completely ignorant of the true atrocities that occurred behind the faint lines of text claiming that they would create a cure for any ailment. "You should've gotten out earlier, you git." Much, much earlier than when he originally tried. Those buffoons threatened the unfortunate American at the slightest hint of abandonment by claiming that they would enter Mathew into the LISA program, and _everyone_ knew that they weren't bluffing. Why, a few years back, just as Arthur claimed a job as a security man and a document writer, one of the poor sods stole some of the work and left. Only two days later, the man's entire family was given to the Queen as food while they forced the recaptured scientist to watch that monster tear his daughter and wife to shreds. Later that day, they "admitted" him into the LISA program.

He was dead by nightfall.

Arthur lightly sighed, glancing at the clock hanging on the wall. Three... just great. He had a meeting in two hours, leaving him barely enough time to brew a decent cuppa and make sure the snoozing American would be ready as well. Frowning, Arthur pushed himself off of the couch with an aching groan, a hand shooting for his lower back as it protested to the sudden movement. "Curses..," he muttered under a hushed tongue, wincing with every limping step he took that brought him closer to the kitchen. A buzz filled the air around the cheap lamp he turned on once he reached the fridge. Dull light spilled over the countertops, glimmering against the collection of cups and glasses the two blonds had accumulated over the years of living together, most of them gifts or souvenirs.

Arthur slipped his finger around the blue one with a particular chip on the handle, careful to not let it clank against its neighbours. He admired the craftsmanship in the low light of the room, faintly catching Alfred's sputtering coughs and sniffs under the couch's metallic moans of when he moved around, one arm latching around the back of the sofa. "Who's th're?" His head poked up not a second later. He sniffed again, rubbing at his eyes. "What are ya doin', Artie?"

The elder blond rolled his jade eyes, turning his back on the man having a bit of trouble picking himself off of the old, creaky couch. "I'm making tea." He grumbled as he filed through the various types of tea in his arsenal, eventually settling on the strongest batch he had. A long glance was offered to the groggy American. "You need to get ready for the meeting."

After an exasperated groan, Alfred trudged over to his roommate, sparing only a fleeting look at the folder resting on the island counter before he pulled out one of the bar stools. He sniffed once more, tiredly watching Arthur prepare the kettle. "Whatta 'bout you? Don't you need a shower too?" A snort sufficed as a blunt answer. Alfred lapsed into silence after that and the mundane sounds that constantly echoed in their apartment thrived with the lack of words between the two. It wasn't like this was a rare occurrence of late; he was probably lost in thought, wondering where _thirty's_ location was or trying to find a safe escape out of the company without endangering those that he loved. Arthur, however, tried to fill his mind with less depressing topics; meetings, family, England, anything to take his mind off of the atrocities occurring under a building with such a pristine reputation of aiding those who needed it.

"They took my personal phone, you know." Alfred grumbled with his chin heavily pressed against the cold countertop and his fingers curled up in his lap; air bubbled from his lips. A bright blue eye drifted over to Arthur, watching his back as he momentarily moved the kettle off of the stove to pour some of the scalding water into his cup to warm it up.

As he swirled it around, Arthur leaned against the fridge, keeping an exhausted eye on the American straightening his back. "That's a silly thing to do."

"That's what I said, but they insisted that I hand it over for a few days."

Arthur rolled his eyes and poured the water down the sink. "Do they really think you're _that_ suicidal?"

"Apparently." Alfred rolled his shoulders, letting out a satisfied grunt as they popped. He brought an elbow up onto the counter. "By the way, can you make me a cup?" Without a word, Arthur grabbed another cup and prepped it the same way as he did the first one, all while scowling at the grinning American. "Thanks, Artie."

The Englishman hummed in acknowledgement, watching the water swirl around in the small cup and the steam lazily snake into the air. "You didn't have anything incriminating in your messages, did you?"

"Hmm..," Alfred's eyes flicked to the night stained ceiling, his head resting in his palm as he carefully thought back to his texts. "Not that I know of."

"Nothing about the project?"

"I made sure to write those in code."

Arthur frowned. While that was very smart of the American to do, the company wouldn't give a damn if it was sent to a wrong person on accident. But, he had to assume that Alfred hadn't been so careless; he was always extremely careful to make sure that he selected the correct people to receive the messages he created, so hopefully, he wouldn't have to worry about someone getting killed over a simple mistake.

"Anyway," the American continued, idly flicking the edge of Arthur's folder before he decided to flip it open. "Did they find out what the hell that purple thing was?" Keen eyes scanned over the Englishman's handwriting, pausing on the roughly drawn diagrams littered throughout the scrawls.

A sigh filtered through Arthur's nostrils as he sat the cup in his hand on the table. "They're supposed to be doing tests now." Not that he really _wanted_ to know what that bloodcurdling thing was. It was the first time the company didn't send one of the subject to their death, so this was an entirely new frontier for all of the researchers involved with this horrible, _awful_ plan that the higher-ups were devising. "The results should be in tomorrow."

* * *

><p><em>I can't wait any longer... I can't control myself anymore.<em>

_It has to be done, or we will both be lost._

_I'm sorry. Please... just bear with the pain._

* * *

><p>Antonio awoke with a groan, his head throbbing and the stench of soil evading his nostrils. It was damp and cool, where ever he was, and the substance he was lying on clung to his skin like moist dirt. Pushing himself up, he cracked his eyes open; vivid emeralds winced at the bright beams of light that penetrated the dank shadows engulfing his mind. He jerked his hand up to block the unwanted intrusion. Something dark caked his fingers and much of his arm, sparking a hint of consternation in his heart.<p>

Where in the world was he? A cave? No... This was too narrow to be a cave and was constructed of flattened dirt. What looked to be metal pipes, both large and small, curled in and out of the roof of the enclosure, crisscrossing like worms only a few feet over his head while a few dangled down and dripped water onto his cheek. Antonio glanced around the somewhat spacey burrow-like pen. Light fizzled through a tiny slit in the darkness just beyond the slight incline of the flooring, the beams spilling onto the moist dirt and staining his skin a cold reddish hue. Being the only source of illumination, the Iberian shifted his legs around slouched down and slowly inched closer to what he hoped to be the exit.

A better question would be how the hell did he get down here? He dug though the mist clouding his memories, swatting at it in an attempt to push it far from his mind. The memories teased him, dancing just out of reach of his fingers, and it irritated him beyond anything else. Why couldn't he remember? While he was sure it had something to do with the bump on his head, and the claw patterned aches along his back.

He needed to get out... escape from this hell he was snared in. Lovino's tricks wouldn't work anymore; Antonio remembered _everything _now_._ The initial infection, the attacks, and every single time his body was lost to the parasite's control. He had no idea what that monster was trying to do, or _why_ he constantly kept him alive, but he had to free himself of the beast's tyranny. A frown parted his lips. Crafty, he would have to be, for the creature had the upper hand when it came to travelling in such a heavily wooded area, and was rather nimble for his size. He would have to avoid getting pinned as well, and that left him with very few choices to go with.

Antonio momentarily paused before he reached for the thing blocking his escape. Wood, he noticed by the grainy texture and the familiar sensation under his nails, probably something that was lying around the back of his home from the dampness and soft resistance of the surface under his fingers. He tried pushing it, but the board wouldn't move. So, he tried again, but he had the same result. Frowning, Antonio trailed his hand up to where the wood met the dirt, trailing it around the corners, but all he managed to do was dirty his digits with smears of dark soil.

There wasn't a way out, at least not an easy one. Antonio backed away from what he hoped to be an exit, plopping down in the centre of the prison. With his back slouched and a pensive frown stretched across his lips, Antonio idly clawed at the dirt flooring, vaguely wondering if he could escape by digging a hole into the walls, or even in the ceiling. Actually... the ceiling wouldn't be a great idea, he decided once he glanced upward. With the amount of piping that crisscrossed the soil, he was sure that he was somewhere under his house, and he knew for sure that his foundation had a layer of concrete between the soft bedding that housed most of his pipes and electrical wires, and the wooden flooring his feet had protested as of late. The Spaniard sighed, allowing his gaze to drift back towards the slither of light gracing his eyes.

_Come on... think_... Perhaps he could dig around the corners of the obstructed opening. But then again, his nails weren't exactly made for digging, were they? They were probably better for shredding..._flesh_. And judging how sharp they were, they could probably do a _lot_ of damage if he managed to get a good hold on his prey, including _Lovino_ if he had his guard down. A plan hatched in Antonio's mind. That would work. Lovino recently was a lot more relaxed around the Spaniard, that comfort stemming from his belief that it wasn't the Iberian that was in control of his body. Antonio eased himself flat on the ground, keeping his attention on the entryway.

If he did this right, he could rid himself of the beast forever.

He simply sat in silence as he waited for the monster to return, hearing nothing but the coos of birds and the hammering of his anxious heart. _Just stay calm... I can do this_. This words repeated in his mind like a mantra, accented by the deep breaths that flittered out of his lips and the light twitches of his fingers into the soil below his form. _It will be just like my acting classes in college. It won't be hard._ Something rustled outside his prison. _I can do this._ A twig snapped under something's weight and soon its owner blocked the only light that met Antonio's gaze. He huffed, setting his jaw as a sweet scent slithered into his nose, growing stronger once whatever was outside began to move the only barrier to his freedom.

His body tingled in anticipation, anxiety and something else he couldn't name. With a loud scratch down the wooden barrier, light surged into the burrow-like space, practically blinding Antonio; a hiss filtered through pearly teeth, his arms leapt up to block out the painful beams and didn't move until the monster readjusted the board so it was in its previous resting place. Yet, before Antonio could recollect himself, a shudder ran down his spine.

So cold... so focused those olive eyes where, staring him down as if he was nothing but a piece of meat. The furious red markings upon his body accented Lovino's wide, animalistic gaze, and they flickered slowly, as if they were trying to lull the Spaniard into a false sense of security. That scent coiled around him, trying to elect a foreign response, but he fought it off, keeping his utmost attention on the monster slowly crawling towards him inch by inch, dragging his claw tips against the soil with every lanky step. Antonio forced himself still and his face emotionless, repeating his plan over and over in his head. He couldn't mess up. He _couldn't_ let Lovino catch onto his scheme. "Lovi, where am I? My head hurts..."

Eyes briefly narrowed in suspicion, but once Lovino gently pressed a hand to the taller brunet's chest, that doubt disappeared, replaced by what Antonio could only recognise as relief. "Your sorry ass was beginning to flip a shit." He leaned closer to the laying man, his saccharine aroma wafting off of him and sending a tremble down Antonio's muscles that pooled in the centre of his stomach. "You hit your head pretty hard."

_No... no, I get it now. __**You **__hit me so you could easily trap me down here_.

"Where are we?"

"The _nest_." Antonio's heart froze in his chest, barely quivering under Lovino's touch. It soon trailed up his neck, and traced Antonio's cheek, until it laced its fingers with his frail, dusty curls, cupping his head and lightly bringing it off of the ground. Antonio watched every move the monster made with a masked eye, calculating his moves based on Lovino's behaviour, although he still jumped when he felt a moist hand creep onto his stomach. "I can't wait anymore." The whisper had barely enough time to register in Antonio's mind before a pair of soft lips covered his. Disgust washed over his body, screaming at him to hurry his plan along, but he had to be patient. He _needed_ Lovino to believe that the parasite had control over his body.

So, he went along with this _repulsive_, strange behaviour, carefully bringing his hand up to Lovino's waist. He hated this, no, _despised_ the taste of the monster shifting against his lips, trying to draw him closer with the fingers curled up in his hair.

Slowly, Antonio's own fingers trailed up Lovino's ribs, doing his best to not act too hastily, but damn, he wanted too. That awful kiss was far from chaste at this point, nearly breaking him from the role he was playing, especially when he felt Lovino gently prod for permission to deepen it further. He had to choke back a whine, but none the less, he allowed Lovino to do as he wished.

_Not much longer... not much... _Those words did little to calm his rushing heart, tasting a sickeningly sweet flavour on his tongue as it tangled with the monster's. He needed to hurry; Lovino _had_ to believe that he was still possessed with the parasite by now, and Antonio _certainly_ didn't want this to go any further. His hand snaked up the monster's arm, lightly dragging his nails along the flesh as they inched up to relaxed shoulders. He was so close, so damn close to his freedom from the body pressing itself into his down, yet, his mind briefly flickered blank as his stomach lurched upon the contact with Lovino's. Something moved _inside_ of his belly, pressing against the outer tissue, _begging_ to be released from its fleshy prison.

Lovino pushed his weight on Antonio's shoulders, forcing him onto the ground. He could feel the beast's mandibles shift against his teeth, and as it stretched the inside of his cheeks, the sweet tang flowing off of his tongue intensified, smothering the Spaniard in heat and tingles.

This feeling... he knew it somewhere... something that he last felt long before the monster entered his life.

Yet, he brushed those sensations aside once his fingers finally reached the apex of Lovino's neck and shoulder, right as the abomination's breath became ragged and his arms curled around Antonio's head. It was now, or never. He forced the monster off of him with one push of his arm, using his legs to swipe the creature onto his back where he held him by his neck. "_You die here, monster_!" Those eyes of his flashed a nasty black and he garbled out a screech, trying to use any part of his body to force the Spaniard off of him, and he probably would've if Antonio was actually trying to choke him. No, he had a better plan. Lovino gave him these nails, did he not? Now he was going to use them for their true purpose: ripping apart a throat.

Using one hand to hold the beast down, Antonio angled the other so his talons where positioned right below Lovino's ear, lightly bearing down enough to draw out tiny droplets of crimson. By this point, Lovino stopped struggling, although the ferocious glare continued to contort his face, those horrible eyes drilling burning holes into Antonio's flesh. He had no regrets... this was his only key to freedom. Antonio flicked his wrist, slashing through the flesh along Lovino's throat with one fell swoop, and blood gu-

...

...

No... It couldn't be...

A wicked sneer stretched across those sweet stained lips, contrasting against the horror pooling in every orifice of Antonio's body. The flesh was shredded, yes, but only white lay under the tattered remains of his throat... not the esophagus, muscles or veins that should've been destroyed. Only... only _white_.

Lovino used Antonio's moment of shock against him, throwing him onto his back. He pinned dark hands on both sides of a terror painted face, straddling Antonio's waist as growling clatters rumbled from his throat. "You fucking bastard." Lovino slammed his knee into the Spaniard's side, earning a harsh yelp. "You fucking _asshole!_" Nails dug into fragile skin, pressing deeper and deeper as Lovino leaned closer to the fear stricken lips of the Iberian. "You just had to make everything difficult."

Brows furrowed over blazing emeralds, and a fang-filled sneer emerged below. "_Go to hell._" Antonio fought the weight pressed into his body, resorting to every body-part that he had to get the monster off of him. He snarled, and he snapped. An elbow to the arm. A knee to the back. A hiss. A screech.

Nothing...

Lovino refused to be moved, along with the expression on his face. Cold...hateful. That was all Antonio could see behind those back eyes, even as the beast eased back and dragged the taller male's hands down to his heaving chest, trapping them with only one hand. "You know," he grumbled between a callous snarl, dragging his nails down Antonio's stomach, "I didn't want this to hurt, originally." A strange sensation fluttered on the surface of his belly, and the sound of ripping silk met his ears. He glared down, but he couldn't see what the monster was doing; his own arms blocked his view, and he still couldn't pry himself from Lovino's grip. "But now," Lovino continued, returning his free hand to Antonio's arms. He pinned them down on either side of the Spaniard's belly. "Now I don't give a shit. You can _scream_ for all that I fucking care."

A thin line down Lovino's navel lurched upward, dragging and stretching the flesh as if a single column of scales were forming below his skin. The ridges grew, and only kept growing; ripping the flesh with their sharp edges, shredding it until a gleaming white shimmered from under the tanned hide that still covered most of his body. "_What the hell is that_!?"

Lovino snorted at Antonio's panicked gasp. "It doesn't matter, you fuck." A tiny slit appeared right where his belly-button should've been, and it opened up, sending a horrified chill down Antonio's spine; he could feel... he could feel his stomach imitating the olive eyed beast's, gaping open, _begging_ for something he was too afraid to name.

"Let me go!" Antonio screamed, thrashing in every which way that he could, but Lovino's grip remained firm.

"Shut the fuck up."

The tip of something purple poked out from the entrance. He froze, heart hammering against his ribs as his eyes locked onto the strange _thing_. It inched out, slithering into the open like some sort of disgusting, liquid dripping ribbon and it curled in the air, almost as if it was poised like a snake, ready to strike. Stutters blubbered from Antonio's lips, his entire body tense with terror. W-What the fuck!? _W-W__hat the fuck_ was that!? He couldn't move, he couldn't get the fuck away from that god awful _thing_ that slithered out of Lovino's belly.

He was a monster; A freak of nature.

And Antonio needed to get the hell away from his abomination.

Lovino gradually hunched his back, dragging Antonio's arms up as he lowered closer and closer, ignoring the pathetic whimpers flittering from dry lips. He blinked, staring into those endless pools of black. "W-What are y-you going t-to do to me?"

There was a moment here Lovino paused, and then he sighed. "Just shut up." And then, there was nothing but white hot pain in his stomach as that tentacle pierced through the opening on his belly. Instantly, Lovino flattened his body upon Antonio's, holding him down through every scream, wail and thrash.

He couldn't breathe, nor could he see through the peppery white blotching out his sight, all of it stemming from the agony furling in his stomach. Antonio failed to realize that his hands were free until they found themselves clawing down Lovino's back, doing everything they could to get the monster off of him, but nothing worked. That white stuff had to cover his entire body, and it easily protected any sensitive tissue from Antonio's claws.

Every nerve, every muscle screeched at him, begging him to free them from the metal teeth they were ensnared in, but he couldn't do anything, and not even the tears streaming down his face soothed the pain.

He could feel it, whatever that snake thing was invading his body... he could feel it entangle with something inside of his belly, coaxing it into Lovino's and swirling around it as if it was trying to twirl two ribbons together.

It felt disgusting, _slimy _even. He was being invaded, forced against his will to participate in this atrocious act.

Antonio continued to string screeches together, and they left his throat aching and dry. Pain scuttled along his nerves, biting down with fiery pincers until they tore them to pieces, and the nose firmly pressed into his neck failed to mend the festering wounds. A metallic tang bubbled onto Antonio's tongue, feeding the pain erupting along his jaw. He choked back a gasp, his screams melting into pathetic whimpers and sniffles as he tried to breathe through the searing heat clawing at his flesh.

He wanted out; he wanted freedom from the creature clutching him so tightly, but the pain sapped his strength. Antonio merely laid there on the ground, letting the monster do as he pleased as a fire broiled in his core, draining away what resolve that hadn't been scorched by the initial explosion.

His voice had abandoned him simply by being clogged up by the blood in his mouth. Hardness pressed against his gums, poking the corners of his lips, but Antonio ignored them in favour of blankly staring at the ceiling. Nothing remained in his mind, whether it be from the parasite or the realization that whatever Lovino was doing completely drained his body, he didn't know. He... he was just so tired of using so much energy; so tired of constantly living in a state of fear and anger.

And, just as quickly as it pierced his flesh, Antonio could feel the tentacle _thing_ uncoil itself from whatever was in his own stomach, retracting back into Lovino's body. The monster pulled away. Thick strings of blood oozed between their bellies like slime, glimmering as the strands caught the single beam of sunlight washing over the two men. Remorse furrowed Lovino's brows over his olive eyes, but it was soon gone, replaced with anxiety and worry... and perhaps a tinge of fury.

"What are you going to do to me now?" Antonio's voice was little more than a raspy whisper accented by the fangs brushing against his tongue and the protrusions poking out of the corners of his mouth.

He didn't get an immediate response. Lovino merely gazed down at him in silence as his thumb gently caressed the centre of the Spanish man's belly. He huffed, standing up as much as he could in the "nest", as he called it earlier. "Does it really matter?" Pain stained his words, almost as if Antonio's earlier actions... no... He wasn't human. He didn't have feelings that could be harmed. "You've done your job, so I'm leaving."

Lovino turned his back to the weak male, making his way to the exit, but Antonio didn't have the heart, nor the strength to stop him. Once again, light blinded him as the creature moved the obstacle to the exit, but darkness soon enveloped him once more. Antonio sighed, and tried to move. Only his fingers obeyed, and all they managed to do was to curl into the dirt in defeat. He would simply have to try to escape again when his strength returned. Lovino said he was leaving, so he wouldn't have anything sto-

_I-I'm-ah... I'm so f-fucking s-s-sorry..._

_Damn it all..._Antonio could hear the muffled sobs of the creature outside the wooden barrier. Lovino wasn't going to leave so easily. Sighing, the male allowed his eyes to drift towards the soil ceiling and began to think of another plan of escape.

* * *

><p><strong>I know this last part didn't go into too much detail about the pain, but sometimes less detail is more. That, and the action truly didn't take very long. There will be more elaboration on what exactly happened in later chapters.<strong>

**Until next time~  
><strong>


	12. And so darkness I became

Pain...

Pain... there was so much pain erupting all over his body. Plates shifted under his flesh, slipping, _colliding_ against something encasing his muscles, snagging the skin that stretched with every push of the nearly _scale-like_ protrusions trying to break free of their bonds. He couldn't keep his body from shivering, from quaking as his heart thundered against his ribs, desperate for freedom from the aches branching throughout his nerves. Black hardness shifted under his flesh, growing clearer to the eye with every moment that fluttered by. Not that long ago, Antonio managed to push his body to one of the walls, although he immediately regretted his decision to move. It seemed that the very moment his back scraped against the dirt packed fortification, everything tumbled downhill. Blinking, Antonio rubbed at his eyes with his palms, yet the horrible clarity failed to become any better; if anything, it worsened, leaving a splitting pain drilling right between eyes that could barely make out anything through the luminescent film swirling over every point he glanced over.

He wanted out of this stuffy, cramped enclosure. He wanted to be free, to feel the wind and rain upon his flesh... to see his mate...

No, that wasn't right. That _monster_ should be far from his mind. He should be finding a way to kill it, to _escape_ from the nightmare that creature snared him in.

But...but... he was so close, and there was still something wrong with him... a bitter-sweet aroma that shouldn't be. It tainted that alluring scent...his _mate...mate...there is something wrong..._

Sweltering heat coiled up in his brain, pricking and stabbing at inside of his skull in tune with every whisper that fluttered across his senses. A whine, low and gurgling with pain, rumbled in his throat as they grew louder, _deafening, _leaving ached riddled tear beads in the corners of blackened sclera, but they refused to hush their words. They blotted out his own voice that screeched and wailed, trying everything it could to remain audible behind the wall of noise.

_I need to find him..._

_Find him... protect him..._

_**No... no, h..s a m…ster. I c...n't.**_

_Mate… mate. Must find mate._

_**No! He's a m…ster. He just w..nts me d…ad!**_

Yet another wail gurgled from his gullet, smothered only by his palms digging into his lips and stiffened fingers scratching at his flesh; his voice tapered off into pathetic whimpers as a battle waged in his mind, each side desperate to claim the prize of control.

Sounds meshed together into a sea of inaudible filth. Colours and shapes bled into their neighbors, leaving only a muddled mess of grey and black for his eyes to rest upon. His skin tingled, and his skin ached.

Horrible…pain…hurt.

He needed to escape, to rid himself of this blistering pain, but the commands to his muscles fell upon deaf ears more and more with each droplet of rain that pattered against the ground outside this prison.

* * *

><p>Compared to the other days that he had to live though, this one was far from the worst. Sure, he had to bare yet another meeting that bored him to death, but at least he was able to spend valuable time with his friends before it was his time to go. And that… well, that date lingering in his mind was drawing closer and closer with every rise and fall of the sun. Bright, chocolate eyes stared up at the American currently babbling on and on about the economy and the American government, but it was far from the obnoxious yells that often echoed throughout the large meeting room. Feliciano played with the pen resting between his fingers, careful to keep the edge from tapping against the table. He sighed, glancing at his ticking watch. <em>Still just two, and there are five more presentations that have to go.<em> At least he didn't feel as if he was about to die. Today's nausea and pain was bearable, thankfully, meaning the other representatives hopefully wouldn't notice anything off with him.

Feliciano leaned back into his seat, his eyes momentarily trained on the blond pointing at a graph intricately detailing how the economies of the world were intertwined, and how they each depended on another. But soon enough, his attention slipped off of Alfred and drifted to the other people sitting at the oval table. Only Arthur seemed to be paying attention so far, and perhaps Ivan, but everyone else seemed bored out of their mind. Well, he supposed that it would only be appropriate. For half of the group, this was nothing more than a review of the meeting set in the early hours of the day, but they still had to stay merely to be a good representative of their country.

Speaking of which... Chocolate eyes glanced over at the empty seat across from his own, a feeling of guilt finding its way into his heart. This was the fifth meeting that Antonio missed in a row. He wasn't answering his phone, nobody saw him in town... it was like he simply disappeared. Francis was the only one who apparently made any contact with him over the past week, and even though he claimed that the bubbly Spaniard was doing okay, Feliciano still felt as if something was out of place. There was just this _feeling_ that he couldn't shake off.

"—And we're hoping that the increase in exports will-"

Feliciano forced his attention back upon the speaking blond; Alfred paced back and forth in his presentation, pausing only to point at the various diagrams upon the board. Finding that he was once again bored, Feliciano leaned forward and propped his chin in his hand, idly staring at anything that would entertain him. Eventually, it would be his turn to speak, and that alone caused anxiety to dig its claws into his heart. He couldn't hide behind a smiling face much longer... people were noticing.

They weren't idiots. It wasn't until recently that they actually began to question his odd ways, but he always managed to pass it off as simply "something Feliciano would do". Yet... he knew that ignorance would die out soon enough. Even now, he could see the glances Alfred shot at him during his speech and the flashes of emerald from the blond with rather large eyebrows; the less than hidden looks from Ivan, from Francis, even the large, and gingerly soft hand upon his leg told him that the burly German next to him obviously noticed something. While it probably wasn't from today, all of that worry surely stemmed from previous days; those days where people would comment on his visual appearance, or claim that he looked like a walking corpse. Well, what could he do? His disease was getting worse with every day that passed, but he still tried to look at the brighter side. These last days of his existence, he was going to make them count and make everyone see how much they mattered to him.

With yet another sigh, he leaned back in his plush chair and tenderly wrapped his arms around his torso. _So cold, _he thought to himself, lightly shivering despite the amount of clothing he adorned. Couldn't the owners of this building turn up the heat? Perhaps he would ask during the up-coming break, oh, oh but the others seemed to be burning up. Dark spots lined Alfred's underarms, and Miss Elizabeta was using one of her empty folders to fan the heated air away from her face. As such, Feliciano forced his arms to his sides, hoping that no one noticed.

Yet, his hopes were tossed away as Ludwig leaned ever so closer to him. "Are you okay?" He asked in a low voice far too soft for his massive size.

"I'm fine, Luddy~" A smile accompanied his whisper, and he gently laid his hand upon the larger one on his leg. "I'm feeling much better today." Such warm eyes flicked over to the weakly smiling brunet, tenderly gazing down at him as if they truly didn't believe him. "I really am, I promise." His attempt at reassurance didn't faze the concern contorting those strong features, but it didn't matter at this point. He would simply have to live with the tingle in the back of his head constantly whispering that Ludwig would always worry about the smallest things, no matter how much the Italian would tell him otherwise. Far too many times, that once humble man found the sick brunet collapsed on the floor.

Which reminded him… Without drawing much attention to himself, Feliciano slipped a hand into the inner pocket of his coat and lightly prodded at the cylindrical container pressed close to his heart. _Five minutes to go…_ He saw with a quick glance at his watch. Sighing, Feliciano gently pulled the small case from its cloth holder, and held it in his hand as he returned his attention to the ending of Alfred's presentation. Although, a cold pang pierced his heart once blue eyes muffled by a thin layer of glass met his; they remained locked, even as the blond American bowed, and there was something swirling behind those sapphire orbs that Feliciano couldn't place…. Something that simply irked him, but before his mind could pinpoint exactly what it was, everyone stood up, their mouths lively with chatter and relieved sighs. One by one, the representatives filed out of the room, sometimes alone, while others gossiped with a friend. Only one or two remained in the room, yet Feliciano didn't care to see who didn't want a drink or to stretch their legs. His mind was set on heading for the closest restroom, mainly so he could relieve himself of a full bladder and so he could sallow down the pills nestled in his hand in private.

Ludwig silently followed the brunet, allowing his hand to brush against his every now and then, if only to show his support and that he deeply cared for the sickly Italian. Yes, Feliciano appreciated the action, but deep inside, a fear unfurled from the ball he constantly tried to keep it coiled into. The German man, his _precious_ friend… he didn't know the dire truth of what was to come. For so long, he was able to keep the name of the disease he lived with his entire life from the man…the truth of the transplant he had merely fifteen years prior, and now, and he _knew_ that the organ was failing once more.

Luckily, many of the representatives headed straight for the small room holding the refreshments, while the others walked outside for a smoke, leaving the Italian and the German as the only ones going to the one person restroom. So quiet it was in this particular area of the rather large hotel, almost serene for the brunet, whose mood was slipping from somewhat cheerful to depressed.

Once they reached the door, Ludwig pushed it open for him, gently nodding as Feliciano thanked him for the much unneeded action, and even closed the door behind him. He remained outside, undoubtedly standing in wait as Feliciano did his business in the tiny restroom. However, just as his fingers pricked at the lock holding together the container, he froze. Heat welled up in the back of his throat, and pain pricked at his stomach, but he swallowed it down as much as he could. Now was not a good time, not now… not when Ludwig could hear. Sharp tingles spread through his shoulder once it slammed against the wall, trying to escape his mouth as a gasp, but the hand tightly clamped over his lips prevented anything from its entry into the world.

Only after a few minutes did the nausea leave him, but an unsettling queasiness replaced it instead. He sighed, turning to the sink as he twisted the knob for the cold water. It sputtered out of the faucet, splattering here and there over the alabaster porcelain before Feliciano cupped his hands under the stream of frigid liquid, then allowed it to splash back into the sink. A cool chill greeted his skin as he trailed moist fingers over face and through his hair, his eyes staring down at the crystal clear water swirling down into the drain. Weakly humming to himself, Feliciano scratched at the nape of his neck, shoulders hunched and elbow wedged into the edges of the porcelain bowl.

This wasn't a proper way to present himself to his friends, now was it?

Tired, nay, _exhausted_ chocolate orbs gazed back at him through the mirror once he glanced up, although he somewhat wished that he remained ignorant to exactly how _bad_ he truly appeared. Underneath the concealer applied every morning, circles far too dark for a healthy man lined the underside of his lids, puffing out the fragile flesh directly above his delicate cheek bones, leaving him appearing as if someone decided to slam their fist into his face. He brushed back rust coloured tresses tickling at the collar of his shirt and pulled back the white cloth, brows frowning at the splotches of red resting slightly below his hairline. Without needing to look at the irritated skin, he knew that the rash extended well below the flesh drinking in the air around him, low enough to mingle with the bruises peppering his shoulders and perhaps his waist. But as of now, as long as he piled layer upon layer of clothing on his thinning frame, no one, besides his grandfather, would know of the blemishes.

Rolling up his sleeves, Feliciano carefully looked over the purple and brown spots sprinkled along once tanned arms, though a faint sigh fluttered through his nostrils at the sight. Well, at least there weren't any new ones that he would have to explain to his grandfather, save for the red patches formed from the pricks of hypodermic needles, and the most resent IV treatments. Back down, his sleeves went after his lids slid over chocolate eyes, closing for a mere moment.

November…

That was his last month on this planet, or at least that was what the doctors predicted. So many of them practically begged for him to admit himself into a hospital, but he simply refused. There was too much that he had to have done before he kicked the bucket, none of which he would be able to do while dying in a sterilized, white bed surrounded by the stench of cleanliness.

Snorting at the pitiful man staring back at him in the mirror, Feliciano straightened his back and rolled his shoulders, _knowing_ that he would be strong until that fateful day in the near future. He went through worse the first time his liver decayed from the plethora of copper in his system, and this is nothing like when his dear brother went missing. He was alone then… and now, since he had so many people who cared, he would be able to get through this too. A weak smile formed upon chapped lips. Yes… he could get through this little blip in his life, but first, there was something else that he needed to take care of.

Lightly quaking fingers pried the pill case open, and with one shake, all were dispensed into his palm, although not for long. He quickly swallowed them dry, grimacing only as they slid down his throat, but regained his composure shortly after and returned his gaze to the mirror. This wouldn't be hard, now would it? Quickly sliding his case back into his pocket, Feliciano looked over his appearance once more, if only to make sure that every imperfection was tucked away under his clothing or the makeup caked upon his skin. Yep, it seemed everything was as it was supposed to be, so, with a smile upon his face and one last tug on his tie, he turned to the door to leave the-

_Beep-beep! Beep-beep!_

Feliciano bit back the _eep_ that sprang from his throat. His phone? Didn't he put it on silent before the meeting? Frowning, the brunet fished the somewhat new device from his pants pocket, and wiped off the smears with the corner of his sleeve. Beyond the layer of scratches streaking across the screen, shimmered a message.

**From:** **101-514-0519**

_Go home, there is something waiting for you._

**June 29 12:53 pm **

* * *

><p>God damn that fucking bastard. How <em>dare <em>that asshole pretend that he cared merely to have an opportunity to attempt to slit his throat. He should kill the fucker for such treason; disembowel him as he watched, before tearing every single piece of the new carapace growing under his weak human exoskeleton.

Fury blossomed under Lovino's fuming skin, and the screeches tearing through his lips did little to quell the fire nipping at his heart. He struck at another tree; claw marks tattooed into its trunk, just like the brethren surround it, all marred by the overflowing rage that seeped from the brunet's nostrils as ragged snarls. Furrowed brows darkened the black eyes glaring at his mess, his breath heaving and his face stinging from the previous tears that streamed down his cheeks by the bucket full. Dry, they now were, and that allowed the rage burrowed under a thick mask to bare its steely fangs. Lovino bellowed out a broiling scream, once again dragging his nails across an innocent tree as curses rolled through his throat and off his tongue.

He felt a cold splatter upon his shoulder, accented only by the pitter-patter of the cloud's watery children smacking against the leaves high above his head. Thunder rolled in the distance, although the skies were blotched out by the lofty fingers of the trees that reached to the sky, thirsty for the heaven's nectar, and the sky answered their hunger with a mist. Lovino sneered at the grey canvas above him before he took one last swipe at the tree previously enduring his rage.

Everything was going wrong as of late... every _fucking__** thing**_. Turning on his heel, Lovino snarled under his breath as he followed the trail of deep lacerations in the foliage, occasionally slashing more marks into the tree's he passed. All he wanted was a companion out of that infuriating human, and despite all of the preparations, the bastard still rejected him. Well you know what? He didn't need that fucker anymore. Antonio served his only true purpose in his life, so he could be disposed of and replaced with someone who wasn't a moron who could actually realise how much hell Lovino went through to keep him alive. Another fury seething screech tore past clinched teeth, this time his fingers spreading the annoying human exoskeleton along his shoulders. Fresh relief bloomed along the jagged lines formed by his claws.

Grass and twigs alike gave way to the anger steaming off of his body, and those that strayed in his path either crumbled under his feet or snagged the loose flesh along his calves. He cursed the few branches that clung to his skin and nearly made him fall onto his face. Damn these briars, and damn this rain. It saturated his humanly carapace, leaving what little tactility he had across his body suffocated by that weak, disgusting _film, _and his mood even darker. Water splattered onto his face after it tumbled from branches high above his head.

Snarling out a sigh, the brunet reached around and tore off what was left of his human exoskeleton along his back, hissing as he had to rip a few sensitive shreds from the muscles his pearly carapace was shielding. He held his hand in front of him and scowled down at the peachy disgrace for protection so easily torn by his nails. Such a waste of space, this was. No wonder humans constantly wore cloth over their bodies. After tossing it aside and scoffing as it flopped against a bush to his right, Lovino took a deep breath, allowing the various rain drenched fragments to swirl in his nostrils as he attempted to pinpoint the scent that drenched the nest. North, judging by the weak current of the wind, and not too far considering the intensity. Dammit, he was going the wrong way. Groaning under his breath, Lovino tracked the pheromone laden breeze, and the corners of his lips twitched every time a low twig of a bush nicked at his legs.

He was going to kill that fucking human, even if it was essentially committing suicide.

The rain's unrelenting pelts strengthened the closer the brunet drew to the nest, complementing the heavens as they cackled at the miserable ire sinking notched talons into his veins. Every now and then, a twinge would attack the base of his spine, digging like a worm into the bone but the sensation failed to breach the raging fog surrounding his mind, and focused on that pathetic bastard locked away in the nest. His nails found themselves slashing away at yet another tree once that inconsiderate bastard's actions flashed behind fuming, obsidian eyes matching the rough breaths that streamed out of flared nostrils. Oh, how his talons _itched _to be slathered with the fucker's blood, and buried deep in his throat as he felt the same pain that stabbed at Lovino's heart day after fucking day, all of it stemming from the blades of betrayal and the poison that festered within his abdomen.

This was annoying, _infuriating. Fuck_, those two words alone failed to describe all of the unpleasant thoughts marching along in Lovino's mind, and as he trudged deeper into the heart of the forest, constantly swatting away the pouring rain and tearing away the weak flesh clinging to his true body, their already fuming steps mutated into a rage induced frenzy. Snarls bit at his grating teeth, pain tingled in his clinched fingers, yet he ignored it, focusing solely on the faint flickering of light behind a wall of trees and rain. Only a few more minutes, and he would be in the safety of his cramped nest.

* * *

><p>Well this certainly wasn't going as planned. Just about the entire morning, Gilbert sat in his chair, angrily staring at his computer screen as if his anger would make that annoying little box appear once again. A few times he would huff, quickly followed by a furious attempt to find the program that would spawn that tiny thing on his screen, but nothing was ever found, leading the pale blond to huff, and glare at the computer for an extended period of time. It wasn't like he could do anything else right at this moment. All of his <em>useful<em> programs were locked away in his home back in Germany, and they were a little less than legal to own over here in the United States. He didn't have the money to buy them either.

So what to do….

What….

To…

Do…

_Sigh._

He wasn't getting anywhere, and dammit, his back and neck were beginning to hurt from sitting in this damn chair for so long. Bellows creaked from the springs in his chair as he rose to his feet, joints popping and muscles throbbing from the lack of use. Everyone was at that meeting, weren't they? That meant there wouldn't be anyone he could talk to, to get this stupid annoyance out of his mind for a few minutes. Ludwig wasn't home, Francis was in that meeting too, and Antonio _still_ wasn't answering his calls, or showing his face around town. A hum rumbled in the back of his throat. Maybe he should just visit that son of a bitch in his backwater home, and force him to spend the day in the city. They could hit the bars, then find comfort in cheap women. Yeah... Francis or little West could join them in their escapades. Well, Ludwig more so they would have someone who wasn't shitfaced to drive them home.

Actually, no. He couldn't do that today, could he? Ludwig asked him to house sit for the next couple of days, so he really couldn't leave until he got back, and that brought him all the way back to square one… _Shit_.

Groaning in annoyance, he stumbled over to the door and eventually out into the hallway, feet dragging against the chilled floor as much as his shoulder against the wall once he met the stairs. Down them, he went, and into an empty room he came. Boring. Just boring. Itching to find something productive, Gilbert scanned the area with scarlet eyes, but he only found dust and vacant seats on the furniture. He didn't have any games, nor did he own any movies in this short term residence. The neighbours weren't particularly fond of him, and they really didn't have much of a yard to keep groomed. Lovely. He _really_ had nothing he could do, other than sleep or mindlessly text someone in the hopes that they would reply.

Gilbert mindlessly ambled around the living room, brushing his foot against the chair if only to see if he could move it with sheer willpower alone. Alas, he couldn't, but he really didn't care either. His mind was far too busy with being caught up with what he would do when he finally got to see his Spaniard friend once more. A hum vibrated against the back of his teeth. Toni would probably still be a mess, if Feliciano's and Francis' words were true, so it would take a little convincing to get him out of his house. Work weary fingers brushed against the back of the blanket covered couch, as teeth lightly gnawed at a chapped, bottom lip, his eyes aglow with excitement, and perhaps a bit of mischief.

Although, as he was caught up in his daydreams, a small sound tickled his ears; a sound that he dreaded to hear already, this early in the morning, and made it much worse than it had already been. Within seconds, that tiny trickle erupted into a roar, as the heavens released the downpour upon his home. He found himself automatically drawn to the window. Brows furrowed at the sight of the grayscale skies far beyond the pristine glass tickling at his nose, and a short snarl soon curled into the air off of his tongue. Dots here and there darkened the once dry earth outside the comforts of his tiny abode, illuminated past what he desired to see every time lightning snapped her fingers and cackled at his ever souring mood.

* * *

><p>By the time Lovino could clearly see tiny slivers of Antonio's front door through the onslaught of rain and trees, there wasn't a trace of human-like flesh on his body, save for his head and the skin stretching from his palms up to the pads of his fingers. He shuddered, trying to wipe away the water from his limbs, yet the chill of the infuriating liquid broke through the insulation of his pearly carapace. He sneezed, and then snivelled through a groan at the slimy sensation of the water slathered over his body as weak tremors racked his muscles, nearly causing him to trip on a root sticking out of the ground. Lovino cursed under his breath. He just wanted a break, a nice long nap even, but deep down, he knew that it would probably never happen, or at least, not in the way that he preferred.<p>

A sigh hissed through his lips, mixing and mingling with the thick aroma saturating the air. It grew heavier and heavier with every squelching step closer to his home, and it nearly smothered him once he reached what used to be the front entrance. Extending an arm, Lovino's finger grazed the outer walls of the building as he followed the surface to the rear of the house, where a thick slab of wood was propped up in front of the nest. It wasn't the best, Lovino knew, but he considered it to be pretty fucking good, considering the amount of time he had to build the damn thing.

Rocks and the overhanging piece of wood along the bottom and top not only blocked some of the rain trying to trickle in under the makeshift barrier, but they kept it in place as well, allowing it to move like one of those "_sliding doors_" as his previous blond caretaker called them. He gently dragged his nails down the side of the wooden slate, a frown carved into his lips.

Maybe he should've tried to find the blond man after his initial freedom from his clear, cylindrical cage. _He_ seemed to be overjoyed that he could care for the brunet and he gave him his name, well, what became his _real_ name, not _thirty_ or that _VL0311-_ whatever the fuck thatbullshit was that the majority of the white garbed bastards called him. Lovino remembered smelling him in that soft, red floored room, along with the other blond, erm... Ludwig, if he recalled the name correctly, who took him from those sterile white rooms when he was still only a hatchling, but, the scent only a few pair of feet down, _it_ had gained his attention instead. He remembered that there was simply something about the strength-laden smell that drew him to slither up the green-eyed idiot's leg and nestle himself in the conjunction of his sock and the warmth of his flesh.

Well, it was too late to regret his choice now. He had to make the best of who he currently had as a mate, even if the fucker wasn't as willing as he would've liked, especially with how much he resisted the influence of the organism developing in his body. Sighing once more, Lovino moved the rock that prevented the wooden slab from sliding open and gently pushed against the makeshift door, keeping his eye open for any movement in the dissipating darkness. A deep red, gentle to his eyes, flickered in the corner of the nest, indicating where Antonio had apparently curled himself up.

The human- no, he _wasn't_ human anymore, was he? Antonio was the same as Lovino now, save for his role in their union. He had the same developing carapace that would keep them safe and warm in the cold, the same mode of conversing, and the same senses drinking in the pheromones that were surely calling on him to abandon those silly human emotions. Only, as his nose picked up the sharp increase of Lovino's scent, the glowing specks along his cheeks and shoulders shrivelled up and his once jittering breath stilled. An emerald eye locked itself on Lovino's movements, watching him move the door back to its previous resting place. "Thought you weren't come back." Antonio's growl was little more than a pain dowsed whisper accented by his clattering voice and the mandibles poking out from the corners of his lips. They twitched every now and then, effectively drawing out a hiss from the brunet's throat.

Lovino sneered at the mess he had become in his short absence. "I thought _you_ were going to fucking leave." A series of deep clicks rumbled in Antonio's throat in response as he tried to push his body further into the wall, obviously failing as all he managed to do was to stay in _exactly_ the same place. Lovino rolled his eyes and carefully moved to the other side of the nest, huffing once he plopped down, his back thankful for the tiny bit of water that the dirt absorbed. The low drowning roar of rain sufficed as the verbal component of their speech, neither of the two bothering to click out a word, but Lovino truly didn't need words to tell how the fucker was feeling. Antonio's markings alone perfectly indicated his state of mind; anger, and fear, those emotions danced along the flickering crimson specks, far from the radiant blue that Lovino desperately wished to see along his cheeks.

Yet, those carmine flecks grew duller and duller as the minutes passed, matching how Antonio's breath steadily became hoarse. He tried to curl himself into a ball, his fingers twisting themselves in mud flecked tresses, but it was like his body had became stiff and unable to flex more than a few inches. With every jagged exhale, bits of Antonio's skin expanded as if there was something under it that pushed it away from his muscles, drawing a muffled groan from the depths of his lungs and a lurch in his body.

Antonio gnawed at his bottom lip as he stretched out his back and clawed at the dirt, his legs straightening until they were tightly pressed against the wall in which the door was embedded, just as his cheek found itself pushed against the floor. Trickles of breath managed to slither out of their fanged cage, and a few of the rather harsh ones puffed up the dirt below; some of the particles settled in the fragile curls of chocolate, while others clung to his lashes, accenting the dirty, feral gleam sparking across his eyes.

They locked upon the brunet slouched against the wall, a flurry of emotions swirling behind the animalistic glass of gold flaked emerald, but Lovino remained perfectly still, his glare just as fierce as the one he was receiving. Talons reached out to the olive-eyed brunet, surely with the intent of mauling his flesh, but upon a loud, wet _snap_, those claws found themselves buried in the ground, twisting and tearing the soil. Blood slithered down Antonio's tear littered arm, splattering on the earth, just like the pathetic whimpers that dripped from sealed fangs like the pattering rain on the forest floor, but soon those cries cracked and surged out of his mouth as swallowed yelps. A red blotched cheek met the earth with a light thud, those snaps wetly cackling with every crunch of the brunet's exoskeleton shifting under his human skin, bits and pieces jutting out and stretching his flesh every now and then.

Lovino merely watched from his little spot against the wall. The fucker was getting what he deserved, and he felt _nothing_ from the pain-tinged breaths scraping against the once-human's tongue; only a cold, bitter emptiness that wished for more agony on the bastard.

A groan puffed out of the idiot's mouth as his body arched forward in an attempt to dull the pain that was surely stabbing at his back, and lids clinched over his brilliant emeralds. He hissed and moaned, twitching with every lurch of flesh along his body. Breath lodged itself in his throat once his exoskeleton stretched a chunk of skin away from its brethren, jutting out like a knife pressing at sturdy silk, and then, as that blade sliced through the cloth, Lovino's lungs stilled. A scream, ear-piercing enough to scatter the birds outside the nest, tore through Antonio's throat. It spilled from his tongue like the blood trickling from the tear on his lower back, spotting and darkening the soil with its ruddy hue, and just as his voice tapered off to a whine, it erupted again, louder than before when a second slab of his new flesh tore through the old, settling atop the one before it. Blood dribbled out of the small cut the tip of the new growth created, neatly splitting the flesh and drawing another screech from the brunet. Lovino grimaced at the sight of the torn skin curling up back like a forked tongue bathed scarlet once it was ripped from his muscles, the crimson liquid dripping from the split and dotting the dirt on which Antonio dragged his cheek.

Blank eyes glared down at the wide emeralds pleading for a release, his heart furiously pounding against his ribs despite the utter indifference his mind sought to portray from the sight of scarlet blood slithering off of that glimmering blackness slicing through its weak covering. Stiff, and rigid, his muscles remained, unlike the undulating surface of the brunet's writhing body. There was another snap, followed by a screeching bellow from Antonio's throat.

_Crack._

_Snap_

_Squelch_

Screams linked together as the plates pushed out faster and faster, erupting all over his body at once instead of one or two at a time, and soon enough, a low whine purred in Lovino's throat. This wasn't as satisfying as he initially hoped... The glee of seeing the fucker having a taste of the pain he caused Lovino was slowly draining away, replaced by a heartfelt dread.

His mind was _screaming_ for him to aid his mate, but he held his quaking muscles against the ground and bit at his lips, silencing his words before they could call out to the screeching fool trying to curl himself deeper into the wall. Chunks of black scratched at the side of their nest, leaving sharp groves with each harsh lurch of an arm or leg, yet Lovino still refused to move to aid his aching mate. It was too dangerous. At this very moment, it wasn't Antonio _nor_ the optimal personality of his mate occupying the rapidly developing shell of their species. No... not right now. Thunder roared outside their shoddy home, drawing out an animalistic jerk from Antonio, his snarling maw snapping over to the door as his wild eyes frantically searched for the source of the resounding boom. And, with the second screech of the heavens, the bastard shot across the tiny burrow, slamming his body against the make-shift door before he screamed once more. Strength seemed to flood out of his muscles with every shuddering breath puffing through cracked lips, and soon enough, he was curled on the ground once more.

Yet, despite the growing aches in his own heart, Lovino refused to move, although now, it was more to protect himself and their unhatched younglings. Dare he say it, but he was afraid of the pure, _primal_ scent wafting from the shivering male, and _terrified_ that Antonio would see him as a threat in his current state of mind. Well, mind? No... there wasn't a mind residing in that shell of a human, at least not a single one that was completely in control. That creature, it was dangerous, a _threat_, and Lovino wanted to escape from it before it could lay a finger on him. Calculating olives attempted to judge the chances of being able to safely escape, or at least prevent any harm to his abdomen. Low... much lower than he would've liked. Antonio blocked the only exit, and he _knew_ that moving a single inch would draw the bastard's attention over to his position, further lowering his chances to remain unscathed.

Smothered groans fluttered against Lovino's ears, each growing increasingly hard to make out over the droning of the downpour barrelling down on their nest and the squelching snaps of severing flesh. Another bolt of lightning drew a feral reaction from his mate; snarls and the screams of wood echoing out under the drone of the pattering rain. Shoulders quaked, expanding and cracking in tune with the deep gulps of breath that surged swirled against the wooden barrier like the fury of a caged animal, all while talons sunk into the earth, tearing at it as the weight of his arms drew them closer to the earth. Hunched over and nearly in a predatory stance, Antonio slowly shook his head, dragging the top of it against the moist door; apparently not caring that his dust flecked hair was catching on the tiny chunks jutting out here and there.

Lovino, on the other hand, stilled his breath, hoping, _praying_ that they wouldn't attract the mindless, once-human's attention. Frail curls tumbled down mud stained cheeks with every faint movement of Antonio's head against the door, covering the skin with every tumble, baring it with every flinch of his muscles and catch in his harsh gulps before slowly slipping against their neighbours as acid tinged emeralds weakly shifted their attention on random plots of earth before them. Blank... So blank, they were, almost as if there wasn't an intelligent mind in control of that husk of a man; only an _animal_, driven by the instincts so deeply ingrained into his mind.

There was another harsh twitch that thundered through Antonio's muscles once the sky roared and snapped its bright fingers. A rugged growl tumbled from dried lip as those wild, wide eyes stared aimlessly at whatever they found so interesting, slowly going up, and up... and up...

His growl deepened to a deep, clattering rumble, so low that Lovino barely made it out over the splattering rain outside, despite how loud the snaps of those large mandibles were against blood stained teeth. Dark and feral, those once bright eyes were as they narrowed in recognition of Lovino frozen against the wall.

Danger...

_Threat_...

_**Kill**_...


	13. I started to hear it again

Black was the only colour in that bastard's eyes. No sign of recognition that Lovino could read. No tinge of fondness that _should_ have been there. Just anger chortled behind the wrinkles of the rage-drawn snarl. Only ire…

And that wrath dripped from Antonio's fangs with every chilling snap and crackle of his voice, each growing lower and deeper as his talons clawed at the ground, indenting, _combing_ the earth into the portrait of the animalistic temper pouring from his clouded mind. He swallowed down a guttural gasp with the cluster of clacks popping along his spine, but those eyes, those blank eyes never lost their target, nor did the snarl stretching his lips lose its bite. Lankily, almost feline-like, did he slink closer to the fretting Lovino, dragging his nails across the ground. Saliva laden with flecks of dirt and blood dribbled from parted lips, pooling in a weedy stream at Lovino's feet as Antonio inched closer, his back hunched over, twitching in tune with the pops radiating from his flesh.

Despite the fear nibbling at Lovino's mind, the urge to _run_ or _fight _screaming in his ears, the alabaster skinned of the two remained motionless, and only a shuddering breath coiled behind his teeth before slipping back down his throat. Muscles convulsed with every crack that littered the air, but Antonio bit back his wails, gulping them down with every thick swallow before allowing the remnants to seethe out of his blood smeared lips as puffs laden with heat. His massive mandibles clicked against bared teeth, their size tearing the corners of his maw.

A growl, low and feral, purred from the back of Lovino's throat, quickly tailed by a harsh hiss that vibrated against his clattering mandibles, however, his threat was ignored. Antonio continued on, closer and closer, until his talons grazed the edge of Lovino's thigh. Tense, the smaller of the two became, his warnings growing louder and louder still. With a slight sway to his movements, Antonio reared back on his haunches, blood trickling from his lips and splattering on the still forming carapace of his chest.

_Stop… please stop_…

Silent words, no longer able to properly form in his mouth, echoed in the back of Lovino's mind. Jumbled and panicked, each desperate for a path into the air, but they were confined to his thoughts while as instincts seized his voice. Another hostile growl morphed into a shrill series of clatters, each met with breath lathered vocalizations and bared fangs, but neither of the two retreated. Antonio was lost, _deranged, _and in all likelihood, indifferent to the other. The organism inside him drove him to madness rather than forming him into the perfect creature he was supposed to be: the perfect _mate_ of the now doomed Lovino.

_I don't want to hurt you…_

Snarls purred off of Antonio's tongue with the faint sways of his body, each reverberating in Lovino's ears far louder than the trickling of rain outside their nest, and then, as a bolt of lightning flashed against the glossy, black hide of the crouching once-human, _it happened._

A thunderous roar of the heavens.

A screech scratching from a panicked maw.

A lurch upward.

Claws slashing across bared flesh.

The next thing Lovino knew, Antonio was sprawled across the centre of the nest, and air was heaving in and out of the smaller creature's lungs. There wasn't any sound coming from the once-human; no more growls, no huffs of pain… just silence from an unmoving body. "No..." Frantic, black-laced eyes dove down to blood stained claws. "N-N-No…" They wildly shifted back to the motionless figure muddled with delicate human flesh and the sturdy hide tearing through the useless skin. A wave of shudders rolled through once tense muscles, continuing to torment him as he hesitantly crept closer to Antonio's frozen body. "I-I didn't mean…"

Not a muscle twitched on Antonio's body. No light flickered along his flesh, and Lovino dared not to move close enough to see if breath whirled in his lungs. _No_, no. That poor creature froze the moment the mere thought formed in his head that Antonio had died by his hands, or rather, by his claws; his _blood stained _claws. It was almost as if frost crystalized in his blood in a matter of seconds, the way that the trembles overtook his muscles with such rapidity. "_A-Antonio?"_ Still, not a sound answered his soft, quivering whimper.

This couldn't be happening. This wasn't real. It was a dream. A _dream_! Antonio was fine! "_H-H-He's alive! He's n-not dead_!" Oh, how those words rung so clear in his head, so desperate for them to be true, but in his heart, a sharp pain coiled. Weight shifted first onto his heels, and then onto his rear. "_I didn't kill him… n-n-not from a t-tiny scratch_." As his whispers met nothing but the pattering of the rain, his eyes fell upon the dots of crimson splattered throughout their den and then the blood slithering out from under Antonio's mop of curls. "_He's j-just sleeping…_" His heels dug into the ground, forcing his weight across their nest and scraping out faint ridges into the dirt.

_He's just sleeping_…

_Sleeping…_

What a feeble thought reverberating against the walls of his mind. Back and forth, it bounced, steadily chipping away into the whine that manifested in his throat and the burn that licked his eyes. Lovino could feel his heart throbbing in his throat, beating faster, _quicker_ with each harsh breath purring from his lungs. He couldn't even hear the rain anymore over the sounds his own body emitted, and only a second later, he could barely feel the rain pelting his cheeks as he loped through the forest.

Blindly, Lovino ran, ran, and only continued to run. Perhaps several limbs lashed at his face, perhaps he sprinted far past the area he knew; he didn't care. He had to get away. Far, far away. He had to get away from the smell of blood and Antonio's scent, but no matter how far he ran, no matter how much the rain saturated his nostrils, he couldn't escape the stench. It chased him, despite the plethora of trees whirring past his vision. Surely, the stink had already soaked into the soil, and only grew stronger with each drop of water that it absorbed.

And soon enough, his breath grew cold in his mouth, stabbing at his lungs with every heave and huff, forcing Lovino to slow to a limping stride, although, that didn't last long. Mud splattered in all directions as he collapsed to his knees.

Pain. There was so much pain all over his body; his limbs, his lungs, his _heart_. It swelled inside him, churning and nipping at his innards, as it had no escape, that is, before it carved one for itself. Lovino's abdomen lurched, forcing him to hold his weight up with his hands as his stomach emptied itself onto the rain flooded soil. He dared not to look at the mess swirling into the mud coating his hands. Instead, Lovino pulled his body back into a stand, and after using the back of his hand to wipe away the disgusting liquid dribbling from his bottom lip, he trudged forward with an ever so slight limp to his step. Well, at least that was what he would've liked to do. He only made it to the closest tree before he had to lean on the trunk, and vomited out what was remaining in his stomach. A haggard cough scratched past his tongue along with the tiny droplets clinging to his teeth, further stimulating the less than subtle quivers quickly taking over his body.

"_I'm sorry…_" Lovino barely noticed the whisper tickling his throat. "_I'm so sorry…I'm __**sorry…**_" A flinch racked his muscles as thunder roared through the forest, and his eyes fluttered shut against the roar of the rain and wind, not bothering to attempt to re-open as something fell from a nearby tree. At this point, he didn't care. His body shuddered, cringing from the sickly sensation spreading from his belly and the cold chill finally worming its way through the insulation of his exoskeleton. "_I'm sorry, Antonio."_

Lovino… He was alone now. Deep down in his heart, he knew it was the truth, no matter how many times his mind told him otherwise. He was lost, doomed for the inevitable future that was slowly closing its jaws around him, and with Antonio… with Antonio _gone_, there wasn't anything he could do to fix it. Warmth trickled down Lovino's cold washed cheeks, stopping only once they reached his lips, giving the rain a salty tang against his tongue. _I'm sorry_ wasn't enough anymore to sate the pain clawing at his chest, not that he could even whisper it now. A ball far too sticky and hard to swallow clogged his voice in his throat, making the clatters of his mandibles against painfully bared teeth and the sharp breaths forced from his lungs the only sounds that escaped the creature. However, those soft, nearly inaudible sounds soon grew to a screeching cry far louder than the rain splattering against his alabaster flesh.

For hours, Lovino refused to move from his spot. He didn't care that he was only a few feet from the contents of his stomach, nor did he care that he was sitting in mud. Even after the sun had set, he remained, blank eyed and empty as he stared at a single point on the ground. There wasn't any point in moving anymore. There wasn't any point in caring. He was going to die, and so was his clutch… it was as simple as that. He could hunt, he could eat, but it wouldn't make a difference. Even if he found a proper host for his offspring, he himself would be killed by his second clutch long before his brood would reach the age in which they could survive on their own. Antonio was the key to Lovino and their children's survival, and with him gone, they were all doomed.

How many days did he have? He was sure the humans had names for the numbers over it, but it wouldn't be much longer than that. Hell, he was already lucky that Antonio's transformation had occurred so quickly, so the chances of Lovino having such good luck again and surviving past those days was very low; almost non-existent. However, that was what the ever growing human-like side of him believed. His true nature declined to believe such a thing could happen, and forced him get up off of his rump. He was weak in his current state, quivering with such pain and lethargy. Staying on the ground wasn't a viable way to protect his developing eggs.

He needed to find safety.

* * *

><p>Line after line, after yet another line of black and white was the only thing that graced Arthur's eyes for the past hour. Frowning, he scratched out several words at the end of his current sentence and scribbled over the marks with his elegant scrawl, all while lazily tapping his foot to the tune trickling in through his slightly ajar door. A "jolly" tune it was, far too happy for this dismal prison so far away from the sun's warm caress, but that static-laced drone of the 50's was the only thing that attempted to swat away the evil festering in these depths. It certainly failed at its job. Chills continued to prick at the Englishman's neck, all stemming from the cold light tiptoeing down from the whitewashed rows of monitors surrounding him, yet no matter how much he tried to ignore them and focus on correcting his report, those images continued to torment him.<p>

Broken men and women clawed at the walls of their prisons, crying, _begging_ for death, but the only person knowing of their pain couldn't do a thing to aid them. He could only glance up at their withering bodies before having to tear his eyes away, praying his heart wouldn't break before he could finish what goals he had planned. Having to observe everyone on this floor certainly was the highlight of his already dismal day. Many of them he used to be acquainted with, some for days, others for years, and a few of the helpless men and women, he never saw before they were thrown upon that cold, steel floor, but all of them had at least one thing in common: Arthur would watch them die, and later, he would drag their bodies to the "harvesting room".

However, there was a single set of monitors that held another surveillance of a certain cell, this one far larger than the rest. Constantly, Arthur averted his eyes away from the screens set directly in front of him, yet, he could still see that dark shadow slithering around and around in her lair, scratching and nipping at the thick glass wall that overlooked the steel-plated hallway. Even now, that disgusting creature lurked around, slamming her massive body against the transparent wall, barely scratching it with her fragile hide, but she never tired of her feeble attempts to escape. Even then, Arthur could hear the pounds of her thrashing, each echoing of thunder, each forcing a pause of his heart.

"Repulsive, bloody creature…" Dark shadows lined his eyes as rather thick brows furrowed under strands of straw-blond hair, the lines growing deeper with every scratch of his fountain pen along his ever increasingly red-crossed report. "…won't stop making so much noise." So hard, he attempted to concentrate on the music pouring from Alfred's office, but damn, if that monster only screeched louder and louder. Arthur finally grumbled under his breath and twisted around, slamming the steel door shut.

It didn't help.

Bloody hell, it didn't help at all. It just made everything so much worse. Her ghastly voice bounced off the walls of his cramped room, echoing under the headache-inducing hum of the several monitors surrounding him, before burying under his skin and scratching at his nerves, turning them cold. Rough, calloused fingers rubbed at aching eyes and trailed up to the flesh above his ears, gently rubbing in hopes to soothe the pain swelling up against his brain, yet, as those emerald eyes flicked up to the centre monitor, the light alone engulfed the pain, intensifying it the longer his gaze remained fixed on the screen.

How the hell did those maniacs in control consider her "beautiful"? Lisa, that horrid _thing_, was far from even _pretty_. Money. That was the only reason they considered that chimera less than unsightly. The governments of several countries were offering obscenely high amounts for a _weapon _that could easily infiltrate an enemy's ranks and take control of anyone they wanted; civilians, troops, leaders; it didn't matter, as long as those infected would obey every command of a single _Queen _with something they compared to a mix of "mind-control" and a "hive mind". That said, _Queen_, in turn, would obey only a handful of human commanders. And as for Lisa herself, well, she was at the centre _everything._

Sighing through gritted teeth, Arthur pushed his file away and leaned back in his chair, watching that creature writhe in her hold. God, he hated her; everything from the multitude of legs jutting out from her elongated body, to that slimy tongue constantly dangling from her jawless maw. She was nothing but a monster, an extension of a creature of nightmare. It was a feat that the creatures born from her eggs resembled humans when they emerged from their "cocoons" of flesh, but then again, those _things_ were more human than she could ever be, both in looks and genetics.

A particularly loud screech bellowed from the beast's throat as she slammed the side of her body into the glass wall barring her from the outside world, shaking the camera fastened high upon the ceiling, but Arthur merely sighed, knowing that the freakish creature wouldn't escape. He rubbed at his eyes after a while, the sting of the light finally taking its toll. The Englishman glanced over the many files strewn across his desk, his mind already recounting all of the horrible tests those participants had to endure. A certain file somewhere in the middle of the pile caught his eyes, and as an instinct he repeated so many times in the past, he reached for it, frowning as the glossy letters shimmered in the eerie light of the monitors.

_VL03116110_

Lovino Vargas…

The "prodigy" of the entire program…

Oh, how the blonde's heart ached once he flipped the cover of the envelope, his eyes resting on the pictures of the dead Italian's body. Such hues of sickly colours lined the man's body shortly before his death, staining every centimetre of his flesh along with the sores and pustules shaped by those atrocious chemicals injected into his blood. But all for what? To cure his brother of a genetic disease? While Arthur certainly admired him for how much he cared for that little sibling of his, he couldn't but to help to scoff at the idiocy of the entire thing. He'd have to completely rework Feliciano's DNA in order to cure him of his illness.

It was ironic, really. Tragic, but still ironic. The only thing that would've cured the younger Italian brother happened to the elder of the two.

That poor, idiotic git. Arthur sighed, feeling the edges of the paper biting at his fingers as he sifted through them, his mind already replaying all of the surveillance he had to watch over the years, all of the hours on end watching Lovino curled up in the corner…shivering… leaping at every small bang that frequented these halls… Once his vigour broke, he was like everyone else who made the mistake of answering those fliers; Ruined, and eventually dead.

That is, until they took his highly unstable and altered DNA, along with the genetic material of a few insects, and injected them into the last of Lisa's eggs. _Something_ developed within the egg, and no matter what that twit Alfred believed, it _wasn't_ Lovino. It… it just wasn't. Perhaps it made the American feel better about literally causing the death of a rather close friend, thinking that he simply cloned the Italian into another body, but Arthur couldn't believe it. It was so pathetic, so _saddening_, to know that _thing_ could be considered something akin to the offspring or even a twisted clone of the elder Vargas brother. Watching that thing for months, he just _knew_ it wasn't that loudmouth brat of a man. It certainly didn't share the fiery git's memories, it wasn't nearly as intelligent as the fellow representative was, _and it didn't act like him_. There were no bites, no attempts to escape the grasp of the overly giddy blond, absolutely _no_ lunges at the German Lovino practically _loathed_.

But Alfred just kept those idiotic thoughts in his mind. It was like that tiny _worm_ kept him from feeling responsible for Lovino's death, and just watching that thing slither around in the paper filled bowl on his desk managed to keep his mind from destroying his heart. Although, dare he say it, Arthur himself felt his own heart break when the tiny creature would panic every time it had to return to its overnight jar and he really didn't blame the creature for absolutely hating that glass container. After all, it was placed in the room adjacent to Lisa's, and he was sure that every movement she made was magnified in that tiny vessel, the sounds possibly resembling thunder.

Arthur flipped over to one of the more recent photographs of the outcome of nearly five years of experimentation, this one noting the growth of _VL03116110_ two months after it hatched. Larger, the tiny worm-thing had become, but not by much; maybe an inch or two in length, at most. He frowned and shakily slid the glossy paper away from his eyes. None of this… not one bit, did he want to remember the disappointment, the pain that creased the skin of that oblivious American once the tiny red creature disappeared from the labs, nor the slight admiration of the infant monster that steadily wormed its way under his flesh over the three months it was around him.

He wanted to forget, but the memories continued to flood his mind, and no amount of alcohol managed to saturate the images until they were destroyed.

"Looking over Lovino's file, huh?"

Arthur all but leaped at the sudden weight pressing down his shoulder and the breath lapping at his ear. Air caught in his lungs, but only for a second as it rushed out his lips as a flutter and stained his face a slight red. Brows furrowed and teeth clinched, Arthur spun his chair around, glaring up at the bright smile taunting him from high above.

"Damn it, Jones! How many times have I told you to knock!?"

"There's no need to be so formal, you know." That damnable American simply chuckled at Arthur's sputters, and moved around to the guard's side, his thigh taking a rest on the side of the table as his eyes turned up to the screens upon the wall. The Englishman, on the other hand, rolled his eyes, and returned to facing his desk, the pictures still scattered all over the chipped wood.

"What do you want?" Little more than a grumble vibrated against his tea-stained teeth. "You know _they_ don't like us meeting on company time." A tiny frown tugged at the smile on Alfred's face. Of course he knew that, yet the younger blond still did these idiotic actions. Taking the silence as acknowledgement of the truth, Arthur slipped his fingers under a particular photo of _VL03116110_, its weight barely there against his skin. "I don't want you to be chewed out again."

"I'll be fine, Artie." Sure. If he would be, then why was his voice barely audible against the distant howls of that caged heathen? "It won't be the first time they've yelled at me for stupid things." Or rather, it wouldn't be the first time they _sent_ someone to screech at him. Those bastards were off in their own base, far away from any monster that their company created. Hell, for all that Arthur knew, they never actually _visited_ their laboratories, nor showed their faces to their employees. "Anyway…" Sky blue eyes remained locked upon the pale screens as soft words tumbled from the gentle flicks of his tongue, a grim expression wiping away the cheerfulness that once curved the muscles of his face. "They've made a decision about Antonio."

Arthur rolled his eyes. "Have they now?" Knowing them, they probably ruled it off as Alfred's idiocy and decided to let it go while lowering the blond's already severely docked pay. "What will they do? Slap you on the wrist and-"

"They're going to kill him."

A snort puffed through his nose. "Really? I thought they would…of…" Wait… They're to _kill_ him? Shaken, emerald eyes leaped up to the man leaning against his table. "Kill him!?" A grim nod. "But why? The git isn't smart enough to figure something out from a mere picture!"

Alfred sighed, gazing down at the hands folded in his lap. "Apparently they don't think the same." No… no, there _had _to be something else. Something that got the idiot into trouble, but what? "They're going to wait a few days before gathering together a crew to go over to his home."

A few days? Normally they act the moment they find out. "Why the delay?"

"I don't know. They wouldn't tell me, but that does give us some time."

True, however, it wasn't much time to think of something that they could do. Quivering fingers fumbled over themselves as they pressed against Arthur's lips, his hands holding his head up while his eyes glared at a tiny stretch of wall set between the monitors. "Can we do anything to stop them?"

"There's only one thing that I can think of, but we don't have time to waste thinking about if it would work."

Leafy green shifted from the pale gleam of the walls to the plethora of lines forming along Alfred's face. With arms folded tightly across his chest, the tall blond frowned, his eyes hidden behind the glare of his glasses. "Then what do we do?" Only then, did the American finally look down at his long-time friend.

* * *

><p>"God dammit!"<p>

That was one of the many shouts that poured from Gilbert's mouth as the night droned on. With far too much energy leaping around his mind and body, there wasn't any way that the German could fall asleep, and through all of that, he made the mistake of fiddling with his computer once again, which ended in him growing increasingly frustrated. That stupid program with whoever the fuck it was with the long line of numbers had failed to pop back up on his screen, and after a few hours of digging through internal files and programs, his computer flashed the lovely "blue-screen of death".

He wanted to toss his keyboard across the room, _oh_, how he so desperately wanted to, but he sighed as an alternative, and spun his chair around, his anger focusing on the wall. _Someone_ sabotaged his precious baby, and he wasn't happy about it. Not one fucking bit. Gilbert hissed before too much longer and curled his toes into the floor, his ruddy eyes drifting from spot to spot in his room, finally landing on the phone nestled between the folds of his blankets. Quiet… so quiet his phone was all day. A frown tugged at Gilbert's lips. Usually, his brother would inform him how his day was going when the elder of the two was house-sitting, mostly just to give him someone to talk to. But today, he didn't hear a word from his bro, except for that morning. Nothing since five in the morning, and now, it was close to midnight.

He did get to wherever he needed to be, right? Ludwig said something about leaving the state, so he _would've _called. Using the heels of his feet, Gilbert pushed himself and his chair across the space between his desk and his bed, and slipped the phone into his palm. So cold, it had become resting atop his bed, however, warmth quickly returned to it as Gilbert flipped through the various menus with his thumb until he found his brother's name in the contacts.

There wasn't a pause in his movements before he pressed the button to call Ludwig. He'd understand why the elder was calling at such a late time, and thankfully, he wasn't the type to become angry when woken from his slumber.

The dull droning of the standard ring vibrated in his ears, going on and on, never coming to a stop. Nails tapped against the arm of his chair, and air puffed out of lazily closed lips. What was taking so long?

_Riiiiiiiing. Riiiii- You have reached the phone of-_

Strange… he didn't answer. Gilbert called back again, but it only ended in the same result.

"Hey," he began his message after the tone of the dial, "Just wondering how you were. You haven't called or replied to anything and I was getting worried. Give me a sign that you're okay, alright bro?" A tiny click leapt from his phone's speaker as the screen turned blank, and his eyes slipped closed. This wasn't a good feeling, this feeling of dread bubbling up in his stomach. It kept coiling tighter and tighter around his organs, chilling his nerves with its prickly scales. There was something wrong; he just knew it, and it wasn't only with his bother. No. Not once had he heard from Antonio since that static laced call, and to be honest, he felt a little guilty about placing this stupid thing with Eugenics over the wellbeing of his friend. While Franny _did_ say that he was fine, that wasn't good enough for the self-proclaimed Prussian. He should've visited his pal, not stay at home and bitch about his computer.

Speaking of whom, Francis, that is, he hadn't heard from him for a few days either. Sighing, Gilbert flipped to the calendar on his phone, looking for anything for the next morning. Nothing. Good. _Wunderbar__. _Neither he nor Francis had a meeting the next day, meaning they could get together, and the thought of something going as planned made a smile stretch across his lips. Tomorrow, he'd call the blond haired Parisian and get him to come over. Yes, oh how good that sounded. And then… then they'd go visit Antonio to make sure he didn't manage to cut off his hand or something. Well that, and give the man the comfort he surely needed, and the socialization he constantly craved from others. He and Francis would take Antonio out somewhere too; maybe a nearby town, or simply through one of the museums scattered throughout the capital. Lunch would be a must, oh yes. Somewhere with a plethora of authentic Spanish dishes and wines, somewhere Antonio would love after spending so long away from his homeland.

So lost in his thoughts, Gilbert missed the doorbell as it rang the first three times, each pressed so quickly together, it was as if the visitor's finger never left the tiny button. However, he _did_ hear when his front door was forced open. It was hard to miss, really, that loud bang resonating from downstairs, quickly followed by the quick, heavy footsteps pattering against his floor. Gilbert leaped from his chair, diving for the drawer by his bed, his mind set on retrieving the gun hidden within. A calming chill pricked at his heart once his fingers brushed against the wooden grip, and it was just in time too. Those heavy footsteps from before pounded on the stairs leading up to his position, quickly enough to send his heart racing, but slow enough to give him enough time to point the barrel straight at the door.

"_Come at me, you fucker."_ While it was nothing more than a growling whisper, those words calmed him quite a bit. His grip held steady, determined, focused; easily matching the fire broiling behind narrowed, crimson eyes. Although, the moment the intruder's shadow splayed itself across the floor beyond his door, his breath caught in his throat, forcing his muscles to tense up just before a figure came into view and his finger squeezed the trigger.

A yelp brushed against his ears, quickly followed by a panicked yell. "Don't shoot! _Don't shoot! It's just me!"_

Gilbert's heart dropped, and so did the gun. "_Jesus Christ, Francis!_ What the fuck!?" God damnit, that damned Frenchman better be so fucking glad that Gilbert had missed the shot, if only by an inch. Wide eyed and paled, Francis took a moment to catch his breath, his fingers quaking more than Gilbert had ever seen.

"I rang the doorbell! Didn't you hear?" No? He didn't? Yet before Gilbert had a chance to respond, the Frenchman's mouth was already spouting out words as fast as he bound across the room. "Never mind, it doesn't matter. What does matter is that you need to get out of here, _now._" A hand grabbed at the red-eyed man's wrist, its grip strong and slightly painful. It ripped him off of the floor, forcing him to follow Francis to the door.

Gilbert attempted to slow his dragging body, but to no avail. "Whoa, _whoa_ there Franny! What the hell is wrong?" He didn't stop. Hell, he probably wasn't listening, causing Gilbert to growl under his breath as he snatched his hand away. "Damn it, _talk to me!_"

It was frightening how quickly Francis spun around and grabbed the man by his shoulders, digging his nails into his flesh with the same fierceness as the ice coating his eyes. "_We don't have time, Gilbert." _He could literally feel the bite of the frost from the man's hissed words. "I swear I will answer everything, but now, we _need to __**go**_!" He didn't give Gilbert another chance to speak before pushing him the rest of the way to the door, and then down the stairs. "As soon as we pass the front door, I want you to _run_ to my car. Not walk, not fucking skip, _run._" Several times, Gilbert nearly tripped over his own bare feet as he was shoved down the steps. He was barely held up by Francis' grip on his shoulders. "Get in the back. There is a blanket on the seat; _get under it and don't move until I tell you to._"

They made it half way across the living room floor. "Franny, what's going on?" He couldn't hide the shudder in his voice. Never before, had his friend acted in such a strange way; so nervous and jumpy. He was always smiles and flirts. Never this. To be honest, Gilbert could already feel cold fear gripping at his heart and muscles, barely giving him enough will to move once Francis shoved him through the door.

"GO!"

He needn't be told twice. Cold, wet grass peeking through the bricks of the walkway nipped at the heels of his feet, adding only a smack to the slapping flesh echoing into the night. Francis' car was still running beyond the tiny gate along the boundary of the property line, both the driver's door and the rear passenger door ajar. Francis tailed behind Gilbert, practically scraping the back of his heels with the tips of his shoes, and once the German leapt into the rear as he was instructed, the door slammed shut behind him. Around the car to the front, Francis raced, plopping down into his own seat and closing the door just before Gilbert's head was tucked under the coarse blanket.

Not a second later, Gilbert was thrown back by the sudden change of the car's speed. The engine roared as Francis surely pressed the pedal all the way to the floor, slowing only shortly before Gilbert slid either to the left or the right. All right. Enough was enough. "Franny, what the _hell_ is going on!? What the fuck has you like this?"

A moment passed, and at first, Gilbert thought that his friend was ignoring him. But, just as his mouth opened, ready to repeat his words, a whisper fell from Francis' lips. "I'm sorry."

"Sorry? _I'm_ the one who nearly shot your ass! What the hell do you have to be sorry about?"

Gilbert pushed himself up with his arms, allowing the blanket to slip off of his head. "_No! Get down!_" Using one hand, Francis tugged the sheet back down, and used it to push Gilbert down as well. "I'm sorry about not telling you anything."

"What? Francis, you're not making any sens-"

"_Your brother is dead, Gilbert. And it's my fault."_

Cold and sharp, those words were. They struck Gilbert in his core, shattering his bones as it ricocheted around his heart. "L-Ludwig… he's dead?" No. Impossible.

Francis hesitated at first, but soon, he stated his reply. "Yes. Eugenics ordered and executed his death an hour ago. Now, they're after _you_." No…No. No, that couldn't be true. "I shouldn't have asked him to help me. I should've just let things be the way they were supposed to be. All of this is my fault." Francis continued to mutter out nonsense, however, Gilbert wasn't paying attention… not anymore.

With his hands tightly clamped over his mouth and his body curling itself into a ball, Gilbert remained silent, using every bit of strength he had to keep the panic broiling inside him to nothing but a simmer. Surely, the blond was joking, right? He didn't have a reason to get all flustered over this, yet, something within told Gilbert otherwise. Ludwig didn't answer his phone… not once since he left early that morning. The only other time that ever happened was when his little brother woke up in a hospital the next day, and even then, someone called Gilbert with the news. "Tell me it's not true." He wasn't sure if Francis heard his plea, with the silence that greeted his ears at first.

There was another swerve of the car to the left before he received an answer. "I'm sorry, Gilbert," Solemn and short, was his answer, barely reaching Gilbert's ears over the roar of the racing engine. "But he really is dead."

Iced, were the needles that pierced Gilbert's heart, digging deeper and deeper as time ticked on, and his voice locked itself tight in his throat. It felt like hands began to grip around his neck, tightening their fingers every so often, biting him with heat cloaked fangs. He didn't say much after that for a while. He simply curled up into a ball under the blanket, snapping his hands over his whimper spilling mouth and jammed his eyes shut.

_Das ist nicht wahr…_

_**Es ist einfach nicht wahr...**_

Yet, those words couldn't drown out the pathetic quivers of his heart.

_Ludwig ist tot._

_Mein Br__ü__derlein wurde get__ӧ__tet. Er kommt nicht zur__ü__ck. Er kommt nach Hause nicht. Mein Br__ü__derlein wird nie wieder nach Hause kommen._

Tears clawed out a path from the corners of Gilbert's lids, dribbling out and leaving scalding stains down his cheeks before trickling off onto his sleeve. He couldn't hold them in anymore. He didn't care if Francis heard his sobs bubbling out of his mouth, some soft while others were louder than the roar of the engine, and several minutes later, Gilbert was still weeping with the blanket tightly drawn around his shivering form. The Frenchman said nothing; nothing at all. He probably didn't turn around either, but Gilbert didn't care. Somehow, for some reason, he blamed it on himself rather than the one who claimed fault.

He could've asked him about the photo on his phone. He could've done _something_ to help.

But he didn't.

He was too engrossed in those stupid files he found to notice if his brother was more fidgety than normal, and that guilt slowly building up in his chest, oh, it hurt worse than breaking bones.

Eventually, Gilbert attempted to calm the cries crawling from his lungs, using the back of his hand as a makeshift gag. Somehow it worked after a few minutes, although the hiccups and sniffles refused to let him be, even after he pulled the covers away from his head and glared up at Francis.

Gilbert stilled his breath as much as he could before huffing out a few words. "H-How did you know ab-bout West?"

Francis' lips straightened themselves into a grim line. "I had to watch his execution."

Wait. Execution? Why in the hell was his baby bro _executed_? "What the fuck are you talking about? A fucking execution?"

"Yes, Gilbert."

Pale brows creased equally pale skin over crimson eyes. "By who?"

"Eugenics Inc." An icy spear stabbed the German's heart upon hearing that simple name fall from his friend's lips. His brother _worked_ for that company… and he completely forgot about it while he was absorbed in that same company's tortuous acts against the elder Vargas brother. How could he? What kind of person had he become to not realize the danger his own sibling was in? "It's my fault that it happened."

"What do you mean?"

Gilbert could see Francis' knuckles flush to a sickly white as his grip tightened on the steering wheel. "I asked him to help me… _smuggle_ out a subject, but Ludwig got caught after they realized he was missing." He deeply inhaled a quivering breath, one that matched Gilbert's, before continuing. "We… We didn't want him to suffer the same fate as the others…We were going to kill him; the specimen. You already know about this _abomination_."

Wait… he did? But the only one he knew about was…was…

"Oh god. It was _Lovino_?" He barely spotted the nod answering his whisper. "He's still alive?"

"It depends on what you mean by _Lovino._"

"What? I don't get it."

Francis' grip tightened on the wheel, his eyes flicking between the mirrors reflecting the lights slowly dying away into darkness. "There is _a_ Lovino who is still alive, but he's not Feliciano's lost brother; that one is dead. The _new_ one is the product of all of the experiments on the original Lovino. This one is nothing more than a monster."

But he thought that the fiery Italian was still alive, not dead. Perhaps malformed and nothing but skin and bones… not pushing daisies. Yet, something else struck Gilbert in that moment. How in the world did the Frenchman know about all of this; his brother's death and Lovino? He thought that the man never met Feli's older brother. "Franny," he began, slowly rising himself off of the seat, watching to see if his friend wanted him to still be hidden, "How do you know about Lovino?"

"I work for Eugenics."

Francis worked for… for Eugenics? "There's no way…"

"It's true, Gilbert. I've worked for them for a long time."

Oh, the rage that pushed away what sadness that was coiling in Gilbert's heart. Francis worked for that abomination of a company. He let _all_ of that stuff happen to Lovino, and didn't bother to tell anyone of the atrocities occurring behind those doors? "Why didn't you do anything to stop them…" His voice quivered with ire. "Why did you let them do all of that to those innocent people? To Lovino?"

A tired sigh fell from Francis' lips. "I couldn't, Gilbert. I was outvoted with every decision." _Now_ what was he going on about? Voting? Francis glanced back at the scowling German, surely seeing the anger literally sweating from his pores. "You didn't find anything about how the decision making in Eugenics works, did you?"

"No.", he spat, barely able to even look at his "friend".

"Maybe it's best that you don't learn."

"Maybe." Gilbert leaned back in his seat and allowed his eyes to glare out the window. They had already left the city, venturing off into the wilderness. He watched the treeline grow closer and closer, each towering plant growing nearer to its neighbour, and the two remained in silence. Their eyes didn't meet anymore. However, once the smooth road turned bumpy, Gilbert allowed his mouth to open once more. "Does Alfred know you work there?"

"He doesn't."

Gilbert rolled his eyes. "And why not?"

At first, he hesitated, but eventually he gave into the German's question. "Because I'm a higher rank than he is. Technically, I'm _one _of his bosses."

Well wasn't that just peachy? Despite wanting to scream and rip a new hole into the Frenchman, Gilbert kept his voice to himself, choosing to vent out his anger by scratching the pristine leather lining the door. He could've stopped them if he really _was_ the boss. He could've prevented a shit ton of things from happening to the poor Italian. What the hell kept him from doing anything? "Why didn't you tell the government about the shit that Eugenics did?"

Francis snorted, his frown deepening. "The government is paying Eugenics for its research. It's providing them everything they need for Project LISA."

Sneering, Gilbert propped his head on his hand, feeling each bump of the road through his elbow perched on the armrest of the door. "You said you would answer everything, right?"

"Yes. I did."

For about an hour, Gilbert interrogated his friend, finding out many things about Eugenics that he didn't really want to hear. They apparently found out about him hacking into the database, and were going to have him killed just like his brother, that is, if Francis hadn't of taken him from his home. He also discovered, though after many apologies and irate hisses, that Francis was the one who destroyed his computer.

At first, he only asked questions about the company itself, although all he found out that many of the scientists didn't believe in what they were doing, but rather, their families were threatened if the company's orders weren't obeyed. Everything else was rather normal for a company, at least on the inside.

Yet, soon his questions turned in the direction of Lovino. So easily, he could see the Frenchman's blood drain from his face. "What's wrong?" Gilbert half-teased. "You don't want to talk about the horrible things _your_ company did to him?"

"I-It's not that."

Gilbert frowned. "Then _what_ is it?"

"Remember when I said that Ludwig took the, well, _new_ Lovino from the labs?"

"No, I already fucking forgot."

Francis scoffed, slowing the car's speed down to a crawl. "Funny. Anyway, your brother never ended that abomination's life. We lost _Lovino_ shortly after that meeting a week or so ago."

"So what, he's running around the forest as a naked man or something? I'm pretty sure people will shoot anyone who does that."

"It's not that simple, Gilbert. This Lovino isn't human; he's the proto-type for the Queen's mate of the LISA Program. Probably the only who may have been successful if tested."

Queen? _Proto-type_? "Wait, was Lovino that _worm_ in one of the pictures on West's phone?" Francis nodded as he flicked on the car's bright lights. "Let me guess; we're going to go looking for that worm in the motherfucking _woods_." Didn't he think that idea was virtually impossible? A worm? In a forest? Hell, a bird probably ate this new Lovino by now. Yet, from how white his friend grew as they drove down that dirt road, Gilbert began to think that there was more. But what was it? "What aren't you telling me?"

"Lovino…he's not in his infant state anymore. He's matured. I didn't think he was a threat at first, but today…today we found out why the proto-types were so enamoured to one human. I thought that he was just more caring than the deceased Lovino was." God, this man wasn't making much sense. "Hopefully we won't be too late."

"Too late? For what?"

The car slowed to a stop, its breaks screeching out into the night stained forest. Droplets from the previous shower still glimmered on the leaves of the surrounding trees, a few here and there trickling down with the slightest movement of the wind, although, the two inside the car were drenched in darkness when the Frenchman turned the car off. "There is… another reason that we are here." Francis began with a quiver in his normally smooth voice. "All of it is because of an uninformative text that was mistakenly sent to him. Eugenics saw him as a threat, and is ordering his death in a few days."

Wait. To who? Who the hell lived this deep in the for…est… Oh god… "It's A-Antonio?"

"Yes."

Gilbert could feel the warmth drain from his body. "A-And is Lovino with him?" There was only a nod this time. "And you knew?"

"I did."

"Why didn't you say anything? He's in danger; our friend!"

"I really didn't think Lovino was that much of a threat…He seemed to be taking care of Antonio, and I was more worried about you. Eugenics doesn't take any mercy on those they find hacking into their databases. I also had to keep them from finding out that Alfred was making it easier for you to gain access."

Gilbert bit at the inside of his cheek, holding back the snarls that wanted to escape. He understood, he guessed. Francis was trying to protect those he cared for. "You could've _at least_ told me, you know."

That long blond hair twirled in the air as the Frenchman shook his head _no_. "You would've gone after Antonio. It would've been too dangerous."

"We could've helped him!"

Francis sighed, barely turning in his seat before he cracked open the car door. "It's not that simple. For all we know, he might already be dead." Using his foot, Francis pushed the door the rest of the way ajar before standing up, not sparing a glance for the German.

Snorting, Gilbert followed suit, not caring that he slammed the door shut once his feet were firmly on the ground. "So why are we there, then?"

Francis started forward, walking along the path. Gilbert followed suit. "We're going to rescue Antonio, and take him somewhere Eugenics will never be able to find him." The Frenchman reached back into the small area above his belt, pulling out a gun and checking for the ammunition within. "And I'm going to finish what your brother started. I'm going to kill Lovino."

* * *

><p><em>It dark…dark.<em>

_Face… my face hurts. Wet. Can't…I can't think. Head hurts. Body hurts._

_The ground… it's wet too. Metal. Smell metal. Smell rain… but it's not raining. My body hurts… too much. Hurt to move. Hurt to look._

_It's dark…_

_I'm alone._

_Alone… Where… where's…_

_No… Too tired to think. I want to sleep. Yes… sleep. Then…I find him._

* * *

><p><strong><em>Das ist nicht wahr… Es ist einfach nicht wahr... Ludwig ist tot. (That's not true. It's simply not true)<br>_**

**_Mein Br__ü__derlein wurde get__ӧ__tet. Er kommt nicht zur__ü__ck. Er kommt nach Hause nicht. Mein Br__ü__derlein wird nie wieder nach Hause kommen. (My baby brother has died. He's not coming back. He's not coming home. My baby brother will never come home again.)_**

wurde 


	14. It fills my head up

A silvery hue engulfed all that were caught in the embrace of the moon emerging from behind the veil of clouds looming high overhead, drinking away their colour and leaving the world with a soft monochrome palette. Gilbert and Francis weren't able to escape her hold as they stood outside Antonio's home. Perhaps the gentle gold of Antonio's flickering entryway light splashed a little colour onto their cheeks, but it certainly wasn't enough to give their skin a pinkish hue, and the slightest breeze carrying air laden with heat failed to warm their cold turned blood.

"Are you sure he's still here?" God, he did _not_ want to go inside Antonio's home, and he was sure the quiver in his voice told Francis that he _really_ didn't want to go into the fucking building.

"No, but we still need to check." It seemed that the Frenchman didn't want to step inside either. "_I hope we're not too late._"

He nearly missed the whisper sliding off of the blonde's tongue, his attention drawn to the open windows of the Spaniard's cottage. The idiot never left the windows open while the moon was dancing among the clouds, especially when it was raining. The curtains fluttering with the breeze had several dark spots where there was nothing to protect them from the outside world, and that same breeze pushed at the slightly ajar door, allowing the light from the age-blemish sconce set above the entryway to spill a sickly yellow over the mud smeared panels just beyond. Of the flowerbeds that lined the walkway extending from the petite terrace to the dirt road the two refused to move from, a fair amount to the right of the door were crushed, each flower bending over to the right as if something _tugged_ them in that direction.

Francis was the first to move. Rocks and moist leaves crunched under the heels of his boots, their cries echoing out into the silence of the surrounding woods, easily drowning out Gilbert's much softer steps as he followed suit. The Parisian's shoulders were so stiff; hell, his entire _body_ was far more rigid than Gilbert had ever seen. That little pistol in his hand was the only thing that seemed fluid, even though the movement stemmed from the light quivers cascading through the blonde's hands. However, those shivers grew harsher as he used the heel of his shoe to lightly push the door open.

"Oh my god…"

Gilbert's hand shot up to his mouth, trying its best to smother the gags trying to pry past his teeth. What the hell… there was so much blood everywhere; even the air stunk like metal and rot, despite the fresh air tiptoeing through the rooms. The red substance streaked the already dark panels of the floor, some of it peeling up around the corners of the smears and along the insides of the murky globs splattered here and there. "I should've done something…" Such pain filled those French accented whispers as he followed one of the longest streaks with his eyes. "He seemed so much more docile than the others..." His hands fell to his sides, his entire body quivering under the fingers of the moon. "Antonio seemed safe in his care…oh god…" Francis continued to mutter in his mother language while Gilbert reluctantly took a look around himself, and mistakenly found himself frozen in the kitchen. Red covered everything. Smears lined the usually pristine countertops and kitchen island, a few extending down to the drawer he knew that held cutlery. Maroon droplets specked the panels of the island, trailing down until they dappled the area around. Some were perfect little dots, and others were a bit smeared, as if the liquid came from someone's toes, but all of the tiny specks led to a single destination.

_What the hell happened here?_

It honestly looked like someone was amputated or something, with how large the pool of blood was. Someone, hopefully Lovino, had been leaning against the wall as they bled out. He followed the stride-spaced smears with his eyes, noting how they lead from the largest pool, mingled with specks that originated from around the corner of that weird half-wall, before tracking over to what he assumed was the couch.

"There's a knife in the sink." So Francis had the same idea as he, hmm? Gilbert glanced up at his friend, who held the silverware up so he could see as well. "Blood's on the handle …but not on the blade itself."

Did Antonio try to defend himself with it? "Maybe he was attacked by Lovino somewhere in the back of the house and then made a run for the kitchen?"

"Maybe." Francis hummed, gently placing the knife back into the sink with a soft clatter. He turned to the fridge, checking it as well. "The oranges are all gone. There were six left when I came."

"If Lovino wanted Antonio alive, he probably fed them to him."

"That's a possibility, but let's not assume that it's true." Francis practically tiptoed around the island after gently closing the fridge door, cringing every time a board creaked under his weight. "Let's hope Lovino's asleep." He barely heard the whisper coming from the Frenchman, but he nodded in return and followed the man around the corner.

Only from the soft light fluttering through the windows in the room behind them were the shards of glass strewn across the hallway floor visible to the two men's eyes, and even then, it was only the reflection of the debris that reached their sight through the shroud of darkness. Using this, they crept around the broken picture frames, all while watching for any type of moment in the shadowy veil before them. A dim red light spilled onto the floor at the end of the hall, illuminating both the doorframe it originated behind and the one set across. The barrel of the gun glinted amongst the shadows, but despite the darkness that assaulted the two, Gilbert could clearly see the weapon quivering in tune with Francis' shuddering breath.

But damn, if he was hiding that fear a hell of a lot better than the German was. Gilbert had to practically keep his hand over his mouth to prevent his breathing from being too loud. If anything, Francis squared his shoulders as they lightly dragged against the wall, flaking off the dried blood smeared on the surface. The German mimicked his friend's movements, being as careful as he possibly could to keep any noises from echoing into the deafening silence of the cottage.

They were so damn close to Antonio's bedroom… God, Gilbert wished he could cure his heart of its frantic beats and the shivers that tugged harder and harder at his muscles. He didn't want his good friend to be dead. He would be okay with just having a horribly mutilated Spaniard in his hands, or even one that was jumpy of every shadow for the rest of his life… as long as he was alive.

He didn't want anyone else to die.

Gilbert certainly wished he too had a weapon by the time he and Francis were pressed against the wall right beside the door frame. His fists could only do so much, and he _had_ to assume that a genetic mess like Lovino had some kind of fucking weapon he could tear the two to shreds with. Claws? Fangs? Fucking _blades_ coming out of his arms? Any of those could rip a new one into Gilbert's hide, and quite frankly, he didn't want any of that. Looking down, he decided to quickly snatch up one of the larger chunks of glass clinking against its neighbour by his sandal clothed foot, and he held it close to his side, ready for anything to lunge out at him.

Gilbert's mouth ran dry as a single finger was raised before him, then two and finally three. Francis flipped around the corner, his eyes peeled for anything out of the norm, his body instantly morphing into one ready for any kind of fight; his stance solid, his arms rigid, ready to turn at a moment's notice. Here it came; the screech, the howls of a monster tasting the cold metal of a bullet, the cheers of a saved friend…

Francis' body slackened and his gun fell to his side. "It's empty."

"What?" Gilbert stumbled around his friend and peered over his shoulder. Frigid nails curled around his heart. Francis was right. The blond eased forward, skimming the room with his eyes and the sight of the gun, and like he said, the room was empty. Blankets and pillows were strewn across the wooden panels, extending from the bed's foundation to the lip of the door in a haphazard manner. Other than that and the shattered glass on the floor, everything seemed normal in this room. That old clock that Gilbert had given the Spaniard a few years back still blared out a harsh red into the room, and as it always had, a little light in the corner flickered where it was dropped the first day Antonio received it. Still keeping an eye on the shadows, Gilbert approached the night stand, noting the faint water stain where a glass may have sat a day or two prior. Behind the clock was Antonio's phone. "He's not here? At _night_?" He picked up the phone, testing the weight against his fingers before pressing at the power button. Nothing. Dead. "Please tell me he's not stupid enough to wonder the forest. There are fucking hunters out there who will shoot his ass."

Francis, on the other hand, was on the other side of the room, carefully checking the windows for what Gilbert assumed to be signs of the Spaniard trying to escape, although, he soon turned his attention to the sheets that remained on the bed. "It might have been his only choice." He traced the outline of the stain spreading across the centre of the bed with the tip of his finger. Thankfully, this one seemed to be a mere sweat stain, probably from the hellish heat that engulfed the states as of late. "Please," he muttered under his breath, turning his head towards the door, "please let us not be too late."

There it was again… that phrase. It couldn't be the possibility of Antonio's death. Gilbert's eyes narrowed, his mind whirling with several streams of thought. There had to be something Francis wasn't telling him. Yet, Gilbert kept his mouth shut and followed his friend across the hall instead.

God, he could barely see in this place. The tiny window right above the tub and toilet failed to provide much light for the two to see with; however, it seemed Francis abandoned his idea of not using a flashlight. The little device clicked on with a short spark, illuminating a portion of the two's path. Dried blood specked the flooring here as well, dotting a faint trail around the front of the toilet before leading out of the room. Slowly and with as much carefulness as he could spare, Francis crept closer into the room, the illumination blaring from his flashlight hopping here and there, fixating on different items in the room. Gilbert, too, followed the Frenchman, cringing as the floor creaked under his weight, slightly bending under the pressure exerted onto it.

Wait a minute. Red eyes flicked down to the wooden planks and he shifted his weight onto one leg. There it was again, that faint buckling under his feet between where he was sure the support beams ran under the floor. "Hey, Franny." The light focused on him not a second later. "There's something hollow under here."

"Hollow?"

Gilbert nodded, looking up at his friend. "Yeah. I remember this being pretty solid before, even though it doesn't have the best foundation." He pressed down again, listening to the loud creaks. He followed them towards the outside wall.

"Wasn't there a gap in the boarding right there?" Francis asked after testing the rest of the room for the weaker boards. Apparently it was only against the wall to the right side of the bathroom.

"Yeah, on the outside, but it was only the wooden part. The ground was still there the last time I was here." But it didn't make any sense. Sure, the gap _was_ pretty damn big, but something would've had to dig away the soil to make the hole, especially with the size the hollowness seemed to accommodate. However, the light Gilbert was using to see wasn't much use, with how much it began to quiver. He frowned, looking over his shoulder. "Should we check it?"

There wasn't an answer at first. Hell, Francis wasn't even looking at the German. He was off in his own little world staring at the floor. "Francis?"

Blond hair practically bounced into the air with how quickly he looked up at Gilbert. "What, oh yes… yes, let's check outside."

Crimson eyes narrowed. "Francis…" The words were soft in Gilbert's mouth, almost as soft as the steps he made closer to his friend. "_What _are you not telling me?" Silence… just silence as the Parisian's light flickered out, leaving them at the mercy of the silver luminescence floating in through the tiny window. Both ignored it. "_Franny_?"

A hand smacked across his lips, effetely shutting him up as Francis leaned closer, the faint light from the moon splaying across his face. "Be quiet!" His words were little more than whispers of breath against Gilbert's skin. "Do you hear that?" No, he didn't hear any fucking thing out of the ordinary. There were some nocturnal creatures rustling the branches outside, and the wind was tapping against the side of the home, but other than that, there wasn't anything to be heard. Yet Francis' eyes shifted around spot to spot, looking for the source of some sound Gilbert failed to hear. They finally glanced down, staring at the floorboard. "There's something breathing down there." That man had to be going crazy. There wasn't anything breathing other than the two standing in that room, no matter how much Francis thought he heard someone else. "Do you hear it?"

He uncovered Gilbert's mouth, surely expecting an answer. Well, tough titties for him, because he didn't hear any sort of breathing coming from below…the…floor…ing…

No… there it was. It was faint; so faint that the drubbing of Gilbert's heart easily drowned it out, but what was it? Antonio? Lovino? "What should we do?"

It seemed Francis already had an idea, for he was checking his gun for the amount of ammo at his disposal. "We see what it is. If it's Lovino, I'll kill him. If it's Antonio, we grab him and get the him the medical attention he needs."

Gilbert hummed in agreement, and followed the man back into the hallway. There really wasn't anything wrong with that plan, at least from his own perspective. He just hopped that the heavy thuds of their feet wouldn't wake whatever was potentially resting under Antonio's cabin. Silent, they quickly exited the home, stepping over the crushed flowers as the followed the wall to the side of the home. The remnants of the storm not too long ago dripped off the roof, splattering on the heads of the Europeans, while the remaining corpses desperately clinging to the emerald blades of grass were swept away by the men's lower limbs. Mud and stray rocks squelched under their feet, echoing into the silence of the night, however, soon all sound was lost to the maw of the moon, leaving the region mute.

Oh yes, that gap was still there, just like Gilbert thought, but damn, he didn't remember it being _this_ big, large enough to slip a board in front of it. An overhanging piece of wood, along with a rather bulky rock on the bottom, kept the board in place, as if something wanted the scrap timber as a makeshift door.

The two men glanced at each other, neither holding a confident gleam in their eyes. There was only concern and perhaps a stroke of fear painted in those crimson and blue orbs, but Gilbert was the first to blink away the fear, replacing it with only the hope that his dear friend was using the hollow space as somewhere to hide from the monster reining over his home. Francis smacked his flashlight against his hand as Gilbert eased closer to the board, listening carefully for anything out of the normal. Like Francis assumed before, there certainly was something breathing under the home, although it wasn't something he'd call healthy breathing; it was closer to weak wheezing, as if something was constricting the person's breaths.

It didn't take much strength to move the board out of the way, freeing the metallic stench from its cage. Gilbert strained his eyes to see anything through the darkness barely illuminated by the smile of the moon. Something down here caught the beams from the heavens, but hell if he knew what it was. Only very slightly, did whatever it was move, shifting in tunes with the breaths reaching Gilbert's ears. Pale hairs trailing the back of his neck pricked up, tugging with it the ones next to it and the ones next to them, until all of the tiny tendrils along his flesh were standing on end. Perhaps he started to shiver under the moisture laden heat of the night, maybe he slowly began to inch away from the opening of the burrow-like enclosure, but all he knew was that he wanted to get the hell out of this place.

Whatever was puffing in there… it wasn't natural, and his body sure as hell knew it.

Gilbert glanced back at the blond still beating the plastic tube against his palm, a pleading spark dancing across his scarlet eyes. Francis didn't notice. No, that perky little Frenchman kept struggling on and on with his flashlight, beating it and slapping it until the light finally flickered to life.

Why couldn't it just have stayed dead?

A confident smile pulled those dainty lips upward, but soon enough, a frown tugged them right back down. Make that a look of absolute horror. The very moment the light poured from the tiny bulb, it fell upon whatever was in the hollow space. Not soon after, his gun's barrel was pointing right at the black mass of… god, he didn't know what the hell it was. It was practically sprawled out across the small expanse, its back facing the doorway and its face digging into the blood soaked soil. A human form, it had, covered from its neck down with something that looked like a skin-tight, body suit comprised of dull, plated metal. _Overly large scales_ was a more proper description, but Gilbert's mind couldn't find much of a difference.

Oh, he was so damn close to ripping that gun out of the now kneeling Francis' hands and firing the entire magazine into the thing, yet, he stopped right at the last moment. That thing… it had the same unruly mop of curls that perched themselves on Antonio's head.

Apparently Francis had seen the same thing. Keeping the gun one hand, he shoved the flashlight into Gilbert's fingers and tardily crawled over to the form. The German followed him a few inches, if only to keep the light where the blond could see through his crazy antics. The human-like thing didn't move as Francis crept closer, nor when those sinewy fingers brushed against its shoulder. Lightly pressing the barrel of the gun against the side of its head, Francis gently pulled the creature onto its back, exposing its mangled face to the men. A metallic clatter reverberated against the walls of the enclosure as the gun slipped from Francis' fingers.

It was _him_… oh god, what the hell happened?

Apparently, the Parisian didn't know what the hell happened either, but at this point, Gilbert didn't think that he cared too much. Like the German, surely Francis was overjoyed that their good friend wasn't rotting away in some hole, and his heart was probably racing as fast as his. With much care, Francis hooked his arms under Antonio's black coated body, straining to drag him out of the enclosed pit while not waking him from his slumber.

His weight was far too much for the Parisian. A faint groan fluttered from the Frenchman's thin lips, one hand shooting for his lower back as the other desperately held onto Antonio, in hopes that he wouldn't drop the man a mere inch or two. Gilbert rolled his eyes. For fuck's sake, Antonio wasn't _that_ heavy. The blond really shouldn't be having much trouble at all. Yet, Francis only continued to struggle with their Spanish friend, barely able to pull Antonio's dead weight out from under his own home. Gilbert refrained from taunting the growing weakness of the now huffing Frenchman, focusing his eyes and the flashlight on the still slumbering Antonio's form.

He looked so peaceful, all covered in blood, dirt, and who knows what else. Francis muttered something under his breath, something in his native language, his hands caught by his sides, terribly trembling. Cherry eyes locked on the gashes hidden under the red muck congealed along the side of Antonio's face. Carefully, the smaller of the two prodded at them, jerking back his hand at the hiss escaping the brunet's mouth. _Recent_… Gilbert could still see the jagged flesh along the tears sporting a faint red swell under the grime covering them like shoddy greasepaint, and damn, did they need to be cleaned. "Franny," Gilbert whispered, shooting his friend a fleeting glance, "Go grab a rag or something. We need to clean those wounds before they get infected." Only a nod, he received in return before he was alone with the injured Iberian.

"What…what happened to you?" Softly, barely touching him, Gilbert's finger traced where that black covering circled around Antonio's neck like a thick turtleneck, unmoving and tremendously rigid against the his nail. His eyes zipped from corner to corner of the dark material covering the body before him. It was everywhere, and from what Gilbert could see, it was tight. There were no gaps. There were only layers upon layers of those abyssal scales, each end overlapping the other. Some simply laid over the ones haphazardly tucked under their edges, while others gently sloped down into a dull point before curling under a plate above. Armor was the only thing his mind could compare it to. Only Antonio's stomach held a different design. Right down the middle, extending from the base of his sternum to right above where his penis would've began if it was in sight, crisscrossed several smaller plates in a sequence that faintly reminded him of fish scales, though there were only two rows overlapping. A set, nearly fingerlike in structure and trailing both sides of the center-most arrangement, neatly covered the outside edges while allowing the stretch of blackness to flow with the surrounding area.

That shit, whatever the fuck that ebony, insect crafted stuff was, it was practically woven into his friend's flesh. Everywhere. His chest, his legs, his arms… oh god… Those nails… those _talons_ weren't human. They were like fucking cat claws; _huge_, greatly curved and fuck… _fuck_, they were _serrated_ along the bottom. Those things were weapons; _knives_ jutting out from the tips of his fingers and his toes.

A sharp, pain laced breath hissed from Antonio's lips, forcing the black things shoved into the corners of his mouth to shift around and clatter against his unblemished teeth. Gilbert's brows knotted under the tips of white tendrils. Were those…?

Gilbert's heart caught in his throat once Francis plopped down beside him, rag and what looked to be disinfectant in hand. "I'm surprised our little Spaniard had this." He waved the tiny brown bottle in front of Gilbert's nose, ignoring the glare stabbing at his face. Well, he certainly seemed jauntier, and at once, those dainty little hands went to work. Bits and pieces of the withered blood flaked away with each gentle dab of the cloth, revealing Antonio's tanned skin underneath along with the gashes that tattered his cheek.

"What do you think happened?" Francis shrugged his shoulders. "Just look at 'em." He gestured to the majority of the Spaniard, not at all amused with the absence of a glance at the deformed body. "It's like bugs decided to rip off their shells and glue them to his skin." Gilbert frowned. There was a flinch in the corner of Francis' lip just now, he was sure of it. "I'm not far off, am I?"

Blue eyes shifted under the weight of those long, blond lashes, glancing up at Gilbert before flicking back down to the snoozing Spaniard. He said nothing. Hell, Gilbert didn't say anything either. Only the forest sung for the two, its melody floating along the low lying branches above their heads. Just on and on, Francis cleaned, making sure to wipe away the bits covered his dirt flecked curls.

"Francis…"

He wouldn't ignore the growl in his voice would he? How long did he think he could keep this façade up?

Four long lacerations carved into Antonio's face glimmered under the silvery fingers of the moon once the blood was scrubbed away, the ones stretching across his cheekbone profounder than those taking a good chunk out of his brow and his jaw.

"_Francis._"

He dabbed a clean end of the cloth into the disinfectant, but he didn't apply it to Antonio's wounds. His hand hovered over Antonio, shaking even worse than before. "You're…" There was a shudder to his voice, contorting it from the usual, suave words that tickled the ears of those who heard them. He sighed, lightly smearing the liquid onto the gouges. A coo fluttered into the air as Antonio flinched, although, it soon morphed into the grave tone swirled between his words. "It doesn't make sense."

The pungent stench of that medicine churned up through the faint breeze and into Gilbert's nostrils. His nose crinkled, his brows furrowed even deeper. "Explain."

Huffing, Francis reapplied the salve to the rag. Chocolate curls shifted under the Frenchman's hand, twisting and grinding against their neighbors, although some escaped Francis' grip and fell back upon Antonio's forehead. "We thought…" he paused, his lashes creating dark shadows under his eyes. "…those creatures had no use for humans other than food." Another hiss gurgled against Antonio's tongue, and his eyes twitched under closed lids. "I don't understand what's going on." Antonio's breath hitched in his throat as Francis gently dabbed the disinfectant on one of the considerably deeper cuts. Fingers curled in the dirt, shifting it and uprooting the grass that was misfortunate enough to be in the way.

Well, Lovino kept Antonio alive for some reason. That was a given. Gilbert's head cocked to the side, the gears of his mind whirling around, twisting the perpetual motion machine encased in bone. Maybe staring at Francis' dirt flecked face didn't give him the answer that he wanted, nor did it provide any input for his working brain, but Gilbert didn't stop. He waited for his puzzled scowl to be returned, patiently, he waited as he watched the man work through the light fingering through the wispy clouds circling the moon. That French frog never noticed. Sighing, Gilbert spoke, keeping his voice low. "Do you think Lovino has something to do with this black shit?"

Cerulean eyes finally jumped up to the self-proclaimed Prussian, a pale tongue below wetting the dry lips that imprisoned it. "Although I have no idea how, he would be the only one capable of doing this." Francis blinked, looking down at the slumbering man for a split second, a flurry of emotions swirling behind those orbs as they trailed down to his belly. There, they stopped and a perplexed scowl pulled at his lips. "It can't be." Leaning forward, Francis trailed the overlapping scales running down Antonio's stomach, although with the hiss that escaped the brunet, he flinched back, eyes wide and quivering.

What the hell was wrong? From Francis' reaction alone to Antonio's miniscule movement, he knew something was awry, something that had to do with the pattern carved into that once heavily tanned flesh. "What is it?" He couldn't help but to ask. This was also his friend they were talking about, and dammit, he didn't want to be kept in the dark any longer.

However, just as he had for the entire night, Francis refrained from answering at once. Those cobalt eyes were frozen on that particular stretch of black and his teeth gnawed at his bottom lip, piercing the flesh. Droplets of blood trickled out from under the pearly white bones. Those black things set between the corners of Antonio's mouth twitched. Finally, after Francis wiped away the crimson liquid, he let a gulp of air slip through his lips. "The Queen has the same pattern on her stomach." Fingers combed through long strands of blond, dirtying them with the remnants of the medication and the dirt dusting his skin. "And those _things_ are able to grow exoskeletons."

Reedy brows rumpled the skin over Gilbert's nose, darkening the calculating eyes underneath. Maybe it was a fluke? Things liked being around things that looked like them right, and most things shed their exoskeletons…therefore, maybe Lovino simply put an old skin on the Spaniard's body to make him look more like the abomination? He grimaced at the thought. Gross… and probably not true. He glanced over the colour of the substance. Shed skin lost its vibrancy, and this thing, well it was as black as night with a faint mixture of subdued iridescent hues of olive and gold dancing amongst the light shimmering off of the somewhat polished surface. This frame was very much alive. "So Lovino doesn't want him for food."

Well, obviously, but at least Francis had the decency to not roll his eyes. "No, but what worries me is still _that_." He pointed to Antonio's stomach, his attention locked on Gilbert's face. "It's impossible to be there for our Spaniard, but those _things' _reproductive systems are held there."

How lovely, but there was no way in hell that Toni had whatever those monsters used for their love life. There wasn't a damn thing on earth that could manipulate organs like that. "Whatever." His gruff sigh wasn't too harsh, at least in his mind, but Francis still flinched at it. He really was on edge, wasn't he? "While we dick around here, Toni's only getting worse and for all we know, Lovino may be creepin' around the damn place."

"But were could we take him? Eugenics has its fingers dipped in all of the hospitals around here, and they would take Antonio into their _care_ if they found him in this condition."

He had a valid point… They didn't need that crazy-ass company sinking their fangs into their dear friend. Who could they trust? "What about Alfred? He practically did _this_."

Yet, Francis slowly shook his head, allowing his eyes to slip closed. "_Their_ making sure to keep an eye on him. They know that if they watch him, they'll find Lovino. It wouldn't be wise." Gilbert could hear Francis' tongue click at the back of his teeth, his brows furrowed in concentration. "I can't think of any doctor not involved with _them_ that can safely remove this shell and the mandibles." So that was what those black things were? Yes, he guessed it right earlier, but damn, what was the extent of the growths that Lovino imposed upon their misfortunate friend? That creature _had_ to have something that could promote the growth of skin to the point where something as hard as fucking nails grew all over his body. A toxin or maybe even a parasite? "Anyway, we still need to get him out of here. Eugenics' men will be here in within the week. The further away we are, the better."

Right. They didn't have any time to spare. Shifting his weight around in preparation for the job at hand, Gilbert held in the swears tickling at his throat as several rocks jutted into the rather shoddy soles of his shoes. Yet, just as his squat fingers wormed their way under Antonio's back, he froze, his eyes locked onto the half-lidded, acidic green orbs returning the stare.

"Toni?" There was no reply. No blink. Viridity swirled in the man's irises, greatly contrasting the abyssal canvas they stained. It was almost as if they were glowing under the blessings of the moon. Surely, that luminosity was a mere trick of his mind. "Toni, we're here to save you."

Blank. They were just so… so blank.

A chill ran down Gilbert's spine. For a split second, nothing but dread welled up in his heart, but once Antonio blinked and allowed his brows to twitch, that fear was chased away by untainted optimism. On the other hand, Francis remained a bit distant from the stirring Antonio, his lightly dressed body stiff, on edge.

Still breathing as harshly as ever, Antonio shifted his arms around, clawing the dirt with those talons jutting out of his fingers before he scratched at the plates lining his chest. They hooked under some of the parts that protruded a miniscule amount more than the surrounding area, tugging at them, but nothing seemed to be gained from the action. He seemed to give up after a few tries, allowing his arm to flop back down onto the earth, disturbing the fine layer of dust resting upon the patches of grass and moss, kicking it into the air.

They didn't have any more time to waste. Preparing his knees once again, Gilbert wedged his hands further under Antonio's black coated body, ignoring the faint rumbles vibrating against the pads of his fingers.

Damn, that fucker gained a hell of a lot of weight. No wonder Francis had so much trouble dragging his fat ass out of that hole. It practically took all of the strength in Gilbert's arms to pull the man up to a slouch, and even then, he had to hold the guy to keep him from flopping back down. "Wake up, Toni!" He turned the Iberian's head toward him by his chin. "We need to get out of here." Still nothing. Those eyes just continued to blankly stare at him as if he didn't even recognize him through whatever was fogging over his cognitive abilities. "Toni!" He shook the man by his shoulders this time, watching his face for anything to show that he was there.

Just a twitch.

Just a scowl and another blink.

A scowl… Gilbert frowned himself, watching the muscles peel Antonio's lips back, baring his teeth to the German as his brows crumbled the blankness that once masked that face. Something rumbled in Antonio's throat, resembling the clacks of a woodpecker hammering on a tree, only deeper and metallic, and behind him, Gilbert heard Francis' breath still. He could've swore that he saw a flash of red flicker along Antonio's cheeks, but with a flinching blink, the light disappeared and his eyes locked on the now fully aware green glaring straight into his soul.

Another metallic clatter resonated from the Spaniard's throat, _threatening_ Gilbert with noises he didn't understand. Shit, he didn't understand why Antonio was making these noises in the first place. Why wouldn't he just speak like he _knew_ the airhead could? Why was he being so damn aggressive? "Toni, my man, what are you doing?" Those black plates shifted with the tension welling up within Antonio's muscles, pushing his upper body higher than the German's. Acrid green never left wavering scarlet, and it sucked away his strength, leaving his muscles a shivering mess as Gilbert fell back onto his rear, his heart hammering away at his lungs. "T-Toni?"

This wasn't his friend… that couldn't possibly be _him_ behind those burning greens sewn upon black velvet.

"Toni, d-don't you remember me?" Crimson as bright as the German's eyes pulsated in tiny flecks along Antonio's cheeks, swelling and shriveling in tune with the air scraping against his teeth. "It's me, Gilbert! Your friend! Your _best _friend!" Another stream of clatters, these far louder than the others, tore through those clinched fangs and danced past Gilbert's ears as cold flecks of saliva splattered against his skin.

"It's no use!"

Oh god… why did that Frenchman open his mouth? Antonio was ignoring the blond the entire time, focusing his attention on the German before him, but as soon as that shout rang throughout the forest, Gilbert's blood ran dry. Those cold eyes suddenly snapped to the side, dragging Antonio's head with it, a low rumble in his throat. "_Don't move, Franny…"_

Did he hear his whisper? Gilbert wasn't sure, but all he knew was that Antonio's glare at Francis wasn't going to wane any time soon. The plates along Antonio's arms shifted, surely tightening together as the muscles underneath tautened. Surely the man could see the inevitable… he always paid more attention than Gilbert ever cared to. But he wasn't moving. Francis didn't scramble off of the ground like the German expected. He didn't move. He didn't budge. Antonio snarled out a chain of clicks. Francis still didn't get his ass off of the ground.

_Fucking hell… _"**Franny, get out of here!**"

Francis snapped out of his fear-rooted daze, finally pushing his body to move away from the beast who was once their friend. He gathered himself up onto his feet, eyes warily watching Antonio, before they zipped down to Gilbert, wide and panic-filled.

Why wasn't he moving? The fucker needed to get the hell out of her-

Pain exploded across Gilbert's spine, fingering out like the branches of a tree as the air was knocked out of his lungs. He shrieked, water pricking at his eyes and chills biting at his throat. Something, long and multitudinous in numbers, pierced the skin around and along his shoulders, shredding the delicate fibers and muscles with its serrated edges. Weight constricted his lungs, muting his gaps and clogging his voice in his throat. A set of those knives retracted from his shoulder, leaving burning trails in their wake, but soon enough, they found themselves entangled with the tresses of Gilbert's pale locks.

Down, they tugged, dragging his scalp along the mesh of leaves and mud upon the forest floor, and exposing his throat to the moon. His Adam's apple dipped with the harsh rush of air in and out of moisture stung lungs. His arms shot up, fingers gripping at the black form holding him down, trying desperately to push it off of him but his grip slipped through every attempt, effectively coating Antonio with grime. He kicked, kneeing his friend in the side, but he was unfazed. "T-Toni…" Those words burned, tearing a stinging path through his mouth, almost as cruel as the acid green dripping from those eyes hovering only a few inches away.

It was like fire, that breath that clattered against Antonio's tongue; sizzling and bitterly sweet, it coated Gilbert's face, cooled solely by tiny droplets dripping off the tips of his keen fangs. Antonio snarled, rearing back, poised to strike like a threatened serpent.

"Toni, stop!" He ignored the German's ragged plea, tugging his entrapped head further back as he lightly turned it to the side, exposing the veins thriving with panicked blood. "Toni!" Why wasn't he listening? There wasn't so much as a flinch in his glower. Not a flicker of recognition. His body tensed as Antonio's did, readying itself for the attack.

"Get off of him!" The voice screeched like metal in Gilbert's ears, and surely in Antonio's as well. The black encrusted Spaniard hissed, jerking his attention to Francis a mere moment before he was shoved off of Gilbert. A hiss fell from his drooling maw once he rolled back onto all fours, though it was soon wiped away with the back of his hand.

Gilbert didn't give a moment's hesitation before he scrambled to his feet, his breath barely able to keep up with his heart. Together, the two backed away from Antonio, watching as the creature shifted his shoulders and climbed to a slouching stand, his shoulders rolling around as if they were aching him.

"What should we do?" Gilbert hurriedly whispered, keeping his sight trained on Antonio and the slight sways to his movements that were steadily growing solid. Growls rumbled in his throat still, complementing his furrowed brows.

"What can we do?" Soon came Francis' reply, just as rushed and silent as his friend's. "We don't have the means of sedating him, nor can we reason with him right now." Snapping his teeth and mandibles, Antonio snarled, flaring out his muscles and chest as any threatened creature would. "Either we fight and knock him out…" The two flinched at the harsh screech pouring from the Spaniard's throat, further stepping back. "…or we let Eugenics take him."

Gilbert frowned. There wasn't any way in hell that they could allow those monsters to take their friend and treat him as nothing more than a lab rat. "Alright…" Gilbert murmured, not quite sure if he really wanted to do this. "Let's grab him." Nodding, Francis inched behind the starker of the two, lightly tapping Gilbert's shoulder when he was ready.

This was stupid. Holy fuck, this was insane, but they had to do it. They _had_ to find a way to save him. Either that or… well, he didn't want to think about the other option.

Gulping down a bit of air and the anxiety that tried to dig through his chest, Gilbert bound forward, stretching out his arms in an attempt to grab the man, but Antonio had foreseen his movements. He dodged to the side, slumping over with bent knees and claws scratching at the water laden soil, that new voice of his clattering ever still. Francis bolted past the German not a second later, his intentions the same, but like with Gilbert, Antonio knew of their words against him. Once again with a strange grace, the Spaniard rolled past the blond's grip, landing near the entrance of the hole carved into the wall of his home. A screech tore through the night.

The crinkle amid Gilbert's brows deepened, his lips tugging into a frown as his eyes narrowed. There was so much aggression sewn into Antonio's behaviour, surely that of a bloodthirsty monster, but why hadn't he attacked after the initial pinning? He had kept his distance from the two, constantly flipping his eyes amid the Europeans. Another stream of clatters rolled off his tongue, further furrowing the German's brows.

Was he… no, that couldn't be. Gilbert glanced at Francis. Did he see that too?

Gilbert took a step forward, pulling his friend along with him. No, he was certain; amongst the clatters and hisses, there was a _flinch_, and with the mere step backwards the two made, resetting their distance to the man, there was a low whine in Antonio's throat. The next thing Gilbert knew, Antonio had bolted, disappearing into the forest as nothing more than a black blur.


	15. Farewell

_Hello everyone,_

_I know this probably isn't the update you all wanted, but I might as well say it now._

_As of this moment, I have no plans to finish Infection in its current state, or any of my other stories for that matter. I am terribly sorry, but I have lost all interest in Hetalia and fanfiction in general, and as such, it makes it incredibly hard to come back and finish these tales. I will leave these stories up on this website for others to read or re-read._

_That saying, I will answer any questions that are unanswered in Infection only. This is a farewell note, and I truly appreciate all of your comments and dedication of time to these works of madness, but please note, this is only a farewell to . I still plan on carrying on with writing stories, and who knows, Infection and even Red Sky at Night may be re-written with original characters and a more psychotic plot._

_As a final farewell, I will post what I had for this chapter after this note. It's not much, but these words alone were very difficult to write, taking well over two months._

_I will miss you all, and do everything I can to reply to future questions and comments in a timely manner. I will also collect those questions for about a week and then post a separate chapter holding all of the answers that have been asked.  
><em>

_Goodbye,_

_Self-Titled Demo_

* * *

><p>Checking the "inventory" wasn't something Arthur loved to do, however, he never really thought that <em>that<em> was the right word. Inventory just didn't set well on his tongue or his mind. Countless files, videos and samples collected from tests were certainly not something that deserved the name of _inventory_, but trying to argue with the higher-ups gained nothing but a letter filled with the rabbles of greedy men. The British lad couldn't help but to sigh, his eyes straining to see his computer screen through the glare of the videos overhead. Today, his cramped, steel-lined office lacked the joyous tune of music from down the hall, leaving him to the mercy of the electronic hums of the flickering screens, and the light clicks from his keys and mouse. He scowled, rubbing at a sore patch of bone above his brows.

It was getting ridiculous. For hours, the higher-ups bickered, and bickered, and then bickered some more, all about what they would do now that their _prodigy's _"thief" had been "dealt with". Some said to hunt down the subject, others, abandon him and start anew. Honestly, Arthur didn't give a damn about what they did, as long as they stopped bombarding him with work that involved looking through a bloody menagerie of files and sorting them by type. Apparently the coding in the names alone wasn't enough for the gits.

Taking a short pause to rub at his aching fingers, Arthur glared down at the pages upon pages of notes, not really caring that the quality in writing shrivelled down to chicken scratch as the sentences dragged on. He flicked through the pages with a bored sneer curling his chapped lips, and then sighed, leaning back in his chair to glance up at the topmost set of screens. _She_ was quiet today, more so than ever before, and his ears were certainly thankful. Lisa was barely even moving, really. She was just sitting there, her grotesque body coiled up like a snakes, head resting on the top of her muted carapace with her tail lightly swaying in the centre of the helix, but Arthur knew better than to think she was asleep. No, oh no, no, no. That unspeakable creature was _watching_ anyone that strode by with those beady eyes, _tracing_ the vibrations of their steps with her gaunt fingertips. Arthur _knew_ that she was smarter than the other scientists took her to be.

After all, on those rare nights he dared to stand before the vast pane separating the two, the wretched beast _spoke_ to him, mimicking human speech with her clattering voice, and it wasn't just pure mimicry either. That creature, that horrible _thing_ that was the root of so many deaths, she _understood_ what Arthur grumbled to her and responded with…_with_…

Chills ran down his spine at the mere thought of the words she clattered out to him, instantly pushing himself forward in his chair, desperate to busy himself with work once more, and in a sense, he did just that. _That monster didn't know what she was talking about…_File upon file was sorted into the proper folder, each being renamed to match the folder while keeping the usual chain of numbers that marked _thirty's_ existence. _She was just repeating others…_Thankfully, all of these seemed to be a jumbled mess of typed files, each still clearly burned into his mind.

_Specimen VL03116110 is not advancing as well as-_

He exited the file, typed out the new name, and dragged it over to the _Progression_ folder before moving on to the next, and then the next. His eyes only had to skim over the first sentence or two before his mind clicked into gear, instantly remembering all of the details that he had typed up in that particular file, and as always, he exited the file and sorted it.

_Specimen VL03116110's behaviour has dramatically changed after test 782-_

_Specimen VL03116110 is exhibiting a new side-effect-_

_Specimen VL03116110 refuses to-_

Arthur let out yet another sigh, his mind drifting away to other mundane things that wouldn't give him an aneurism. How long until his mouse clicker stuck in place? How much longer was all of this mess going to take? Where the hell was Alfred?

_It is speculated that specimen VL03116*110 has not been taking his pills as instructed. A class D personnel responsible for sanitizing B class living quarters has found several pills prescribed to specimen VL031161-_

There was a slight pause at this particular mess of words. A weak grin stretched across his face. He remembered this well, that sly lad. No one knew how, but Lovino managed to skip out of several weeks of pills, hiding in them in the silliest, yet most clever places imaginable. It infuriated the higher-ups, how healthy he seemed to grow for half a month, and Alfred was absolutely amused by how crafty the Italian man was, simply from the fact that he didn't bother to flush the pills down the toilet, like many others had tried before him. Yet, it was probably because of that "incident" that they switched the young man to injections and required the constant surveillance of his cell.

The sudden roar throughout the metallic hallway outside his office caused a violent leap in Arthur's muscles, his teeth clinching, grazing the side of his tongue. Eyes flicked up to the topmost screens. Beyond the whitewashed screen, that _thing_ was flailing around again, screeching and howling as her body slammed against the glass before recoiling back. Several chunks of her keratin hide flaked off, a few somehow sticking to the pane, and Arthur frowned, his tongue clicking at the back of his teeth. He contemplated whether or not he should go investigate just _how_ those flakes weren't moving, but when the monster settled down, twisting her body around to inspect the damage to her side, Arthur lightly tsked, flicking his eyes back down to the computer monitor built into the wall.

With a swish of a finger, a blink and a withered breath, lines of black and white shimmered on the screen, flickering every now and then in tandem with the monitors above. He glanced over the first few words, but abruptly stopped as he dug his palms into his eyes and dragged them down his cheeks. Worn nails softly clawed at the purple-tinged bags; another breathy huff.

He couldn't do anymore of this right now. He _needed_ to be off of this floor, if only for a few moments.

His chair groaned with the sudden lack of pressure upon its coils, a similar complaint murmured by the steel door. Low clicks bounced off the pearly floors with every other step of the Englishman, sharp clacks filling the spaces in between, though they were nothing but muffled ticks in Arthur's ears. He bit at the corner of his lower lip, silently cursing the internal beats growing more fretful with each step down that dreadful hallway. The skin around his nose wrinkled, sneering at the tremors in his fingers, and yet, his eyes remained locked on the wall before him, brows tucked into a stoic frown.

Arthur turned a sharp right, this stretch of bleached tile the exact same as the others in this god-forsaken prison for damned souls. There was a door to marring the perfect stretch of steel to his right, leading to an office that held one of the _many_ withering minds Eugenics had clinched between their teeth, and on the other side, well, let's just say that there was a reason the lights beyond the scratch-laden glass were busted. One of the bulbs embedded in the ceiling flickered as the walls groaned, spurring a skip in Arthur's heart. "_Calm yourself._", he hissed under his breath as he shoved his hand into his pockets, "_Just ignore her._" Light far brighter than what illuminated this rather dim path flooded the slate flooring where a new hallway joined on the left, just beyond a second slab of glass, and with each step, with each _centimetre _closer he drew, Arthur could feel his blood run cold.

He didn't hesitate to keep his pace constant as he turned the corner, nor did he allow his eyes to drift to the blaring white on his right, but he could still see _her_ shifting around, taking note of the only human on the entire floor. She kept up with him without any effort, her shadow slinking along the glass, hands and segmented legs clicking against the flooring. She hummed out a clattering hiss. Arthur hurried his steps.

_Don't look at that bloody heathen_… Arthur bit his tongue, stilling every muscle in his face as those beady eyes stared straight through him. A shrill tune vibrated through her throat, but if she was trying to get Arthur's attention, it was too late. He curved to the left as soon as the hallway ended, and once the creature was surely out of sight, the Englishman's stride became rushed, _frantic_; just as frantic as the heart hammering against his ribs and so petrified that he tripped over his own feet.

"_Bloody_ _fucking hell!"_, spewed out of his mouth, not at all like the light trickle of blood from the tip of his tongue. A muted thud filled the air around him as Arthur slammed his fist into the solid ground, pain resonating from the flap of meat caged by teeth and from somewhere below his waist. Hissing, the man curled up, gently dragging his left foot as he brought his knee up to his chest in order to prod at the flesh of his ankle, though all it resulted in was nothing more than a swear.. He tugged off his shoe, the matching sock soon joining it against the wall. It was already swelling "Fucking _gits_ and their _shitty_ floor plans…" _Who_ in the world decided it a good idea that the _only_ security office on the entire floor was on the opposite side of the building of the bloody stairs!?

Arthur glared at his ankle, inspecting it for the eventual bruising, not at all paying attention to the gargantuan creature only but six meters away. He didn't hear her clattering cackle or the light taps of her curved fingernails on the glass, taunting him, trying to draw his ears. That little noise barely breached the thick rush of blood coursing through his neck; however the hiss of cracking glass certainly reached his mind, bringing with it, a cold blaze that engulfed his skin like wildfire.

_Test chamber 308 has been breached. This is not a test. All class E employees please report to floor B3. I repeat, test chamber 308..._


	16. Answers

I know it hasn't been a full week, but classes have started up again, and I simply won't have as much time over this weekend or next week to answer questions. That's why it's getting posted early.

All in all, I wish I took more time in thinking about the plot as a whole. I wrote myself into a corner far too many times, especially with the early visitation of Francis. Don't change the plot too much people. It doesn't always work well.

Sorry if some of this doesn't make sense. I am terrible at explaining what goes on in my mind in a way that other people can understand. Also, if there are questions you want answered that aren't here, please tell me, that way I can tell you. 

**Plot after chapter 14**

Lovino returns to Antonio's home, however, he finds that someone is snooping around the place. This man, named Bobby, was the man that Alfred asked to get Antonio out of harms way. He also asked Bobby to capture Lovino as well, but not to hurt him. Lovino is pretty much freaking out at this point; One, Antonio isn't there; Two, this man is invading his nest; Three, the fertilized eggs inside of Lovino are beginning to eat him alive, and he needs them OUT. As such, Lovino stupidly decides to attack Bobby, resulting in getting his butt kicked. Unluckily for the human, Antonio witnessed the fight and proceeds to ripping the man a new one. Lovino manages stops him before he kills Bobby, though still fearful that Antonio would turn on him as well. He realizes this isn't going to happen, and they drag Bobby into the bathroom. The same way Lovino originally infected Antonio, he lays his eggs into Bobby, where they will eat the man alive from the inside out. The toxins the eggs secrete keep Bobby paralyzed, though very aware of what's going on.

(Lovino technically has an ovipositor in his mouth. It is tucked away under his tongue, and he can split apart his lower jaw, much like a snake, although his skin will split along with it. He deposits a neurotoxin with his mandibles, like he did with Antonio, into the host, then literally clamps down on the host's mouth like a facehugger. Then, with the ovipositor that is normally curled up, he will implant the eggs into his host. The ovipositor looks like a tongue (and that is actually what Lisa's "tongue" is.))

Meanwhile, Feliciano finally gets around to watching the video that Alfred (Feli doesn't know) sent him. This video is a compilation of different videos. All showing Lovino doing random things. He looks healthy, at least from the outside, however, the final chunk is a letter from Lovino. He states that he never got any letters from Feliciano, and is honestly questioning if he truly cared. These videos are only from the first and second weeks that Lovino was in Eugenics' care. It ends with Lovino sighing and stating that he loved Feliciano more than anything.

A few days pass. The eggs inside of Bobby finally hatched, effectively killing him and leaving his body in the same shape as heart-worms to a dog's heart. These worms are super tiny and thin, meaning all of them (about 100 in total), can fit between the exoskeleton and skin of Lovino's back, where they remain until they are able to find a host for further growth. A day or so later, Eugenics sends operatives to search for and capture Antonio. They arrive that very day, finding the remains of Bobby, and later, both Lovino and Antonio. They take the two to their labs, and separate them. Antonio becomes extremely vocally aggressive towards anyone approaching his cell, even more so when they introduce him to Lisa (this giant centipede-lady thing, who was the main component of project Lisa and the "mother" to the new Lovino.) She tries to mate with Antonio, who isn't having any of that shit. He kills her, and assaults anyone who enters his cage afterwards.

Lovino is relatively calm during the whole thing, since they force Alfred to be the one to administer all of the tests. They preform tests measuring his intellect, empathy, endurance, memory and whatnot. Here, they find that he remembers Francis, despite never coming into contact with him while he was in his larva stage of life. They also take DNA samples, but whenever they switched Alfred out for anyone else, Lovino would behave aggressively towards the stranger, so they decide to do another test. They bring in Arthur, who is currently in a wheelchair due to Lisa attacking him, leaving him paralyzed from the waist down. He's badly hurt and mangled, but still recognizable, at least to Lovino, who reacts to him the same as he did with Alfred.

As such, Eugenics' decides on another test.

They bring in Feliciano, who they captured not long after acquiring Lovino and Antonio. Lovino's reaction is different, to say the least. He's not aggressive with Feliciano, though he's not overly friendly with him either. If anything, he's confused as to why the man is in hysterics and crying. This doesn't last long. Lovino soon pins Feli on the ground, forcing the man's mouth open to the point of nearly unhinging it, and then those worms, his children, start emerging from the safety of his back. They slither down his arm and into Felicinano's mouth, nearly suffocating him as they travel down to his stomach. From this point, Lovino because highly protective of Feliciano, who is now paralyzed on the floor.

Antonio is still going batshit in his own little cage.

The next day, Feli is able to move once more, but he's docile towards the creature that resembles his brother. Lovi is still protective. Eugenics still doesn't know what the hell happened, so they try to get Lovino to do the worm thing again, but Lovino merely kills the people they send in, saving for Alfred and Arthur of course. They try letting Antonio into the same cage as Lovi, but instead of attacking Feli, like they expected, he ignores the Italian in favor of Lovi. Eugenic's personnel try to extract Feli from the cage, but now Toni and Lovi are protecting the man. They realize what's going on, and now won't even let Alfred near them.

Meanwhile, Eugenics sets out to find Francis and Gilbert. The two don't manage to hide for long and are captured. While they are imprisoned, Feliciano becomes more active and has similar mutations to Antonio in the beginning of the story. He begins communicating with Toni and Lovi via guttural clicking as well. It isn't long after that Alfred manages to sneak into Gil and Francis' cell with Arthur's help. They hatch a plan to escape, and kill the "mutants" in the process.

By the time the three plan on escaping, Eugenics believe that Feli's mutations were caused by the worm things that came from Lovino's back, and that they are similar to the ones that they found in previous test subjects. They believe that they finally created a functional "Queen", meaning Lovino can reproduce and act as a Leader to everything he "infects". They forcefully remove Lovino from the cage, injuring Antonio and the mutated Feliciano, and begin to experiment on the creature, starting with removing the exoskeleton around his stomach. Lovi is awake during this procedure, but put asleep when they actually open him up. They find organs fully capable of producing eggs, along with a sack that holds them and the ovipositor that's right under his tongue. The sack is literally bulging with eggs, fertilized eggs at that, and at that point, they realize that Lovino managed to create a creature that can and will mate with him. They assume it's Antonio, and they are correct. They sew Lovino back up and put him in isolation. Not long after, Alfred, along with many defectors of Eugenics, destroy the base, killing as many personnel as they could, along with the abominations trapped within its walls.

Time skip to the last chapter. Several months pass. Eugenics is outed as a terrible group creating bioweapons based on parasites and "hive-minds", however, their main prodigy wasn't found in the wreckage of the main unit. Instead of killing Toni, Lovi and Feli, like they originally planned, they relocated the three to a remote, underground location in the southern Appalachians. This was originally a testing ground for Eugenics, but had long been abandoned. Alfred kept the others from killing the three infected, however, this may have not been the best idea.

Alfred led Feli, Toni and Lovi to the mountains, and once they got there, Lovi and Toni killed everyone except Al, Arthur, Gil and Fran. Some of the unnamed personnel were used as "hatching stations" for Lovino's subsequent clutches, and these children of the monster were used to infect the four survivors.

In recent years, people have gone missing in the mountains. Some assume they were killed by bears and eaten alive, however, most found their minds entrapped in the clutches of the only Eugenics Queen that survived. 

**10-15-14-05-19:**

J-O-N-E-S

Pretty sure I explained this in an earlier chapter, but whatever. 

**What does Feli have?**

When I originally wrote this, I intended Feliciano to have Wilson's disease. I don't remember a lot about the disease anymore, but I believe that it is a genetic disease where you have way too much copper in your system. This wreaks havoc on your liver and whatnot. Feliciano's original liver failed 15 years before infection began, when he was 13. He was able to get a transplant to save his life, but only by money they got from the mafia. This lead the family into a horrible debt situation, and eventually, their ties with the mafia backfired. Feli wasn't able to get the medicine he needed. During these years, his liver and kidneys got wrecked, and this is when Lovino decided to do something about it, despite not knowing that Feli's transplant was beginning to fail. Once Feli was receiving money from Alfred, he was able to get treatment. However, the medicine that removed the copper from his system actually damaged his liver and kidneys. At first, they believed that it was simply a side effect of the medicine, but it turned out that they were both failing. Despite pleas for Feliciano to remain in the hospital, the man became stubborn and refused. He was expected to die in November. 

**Cure?**

Yes, Lovino infecting Feliciano did indeed cure him of his disease. The parasites pretty much reworked his DNA into the most favorable combination, eliminating the disease from his body. I know this probably doesn't work in real life, but fuck it. Magic.

The parasites didn't cure Arthur of his paralysis though. He's just kind of there, sitting around. Watching. Waiting. 

**Simplify Project LISA**

US government wanted a perfect army. Eugenics offered to make one based on a hive mind. They based this on ant colonies and parasitic wasps. 

**Queen? Parasites? Worms? Wat?**

Lisa was the original Queen. Long before the events of Infection, Eugenics created a potential mate for her, however, he was rejected. Despite this, Lisa managed to produce a single clutch of eggs, totaling thirty in all. These eggs were injected with highly manipulated human DNA (meaning Lovino's after all of his tests), and not long later, they hatched into what Eugenics hoped would be a potential mate for Lisa. Instead, they created a batch of highly unstable queens, save for one: Lovino. He was incredibly stable, mostly because his growth was considerably slower than his brethren.

Originally, Lovino was planning on making Alfred his mate (RoMerica all the way), but he simply liked the way Antonio smelled better, so chose him. That saying, Lovino is technically a female of his species, but could've become male if he had chosen a female mate instead. With the parasite in the very first chapter, Lovino rewired Antonio's reproductive system so it could match with his, meaning the sperm that fertilized Lovino's eggs was, in all purposes, Antonio's original, albeit slightly modified sperm. If Lovino chose a female, she would be providing the eggs, and he the sperm. That's only Lovino's _first_ offspring. It is the only one that can create a mate, and Lovino has only _one_ his entire lifespan. So if Antonio ever dies, then Lovino will die not long afterwards. Reasons ahead.

The second and later sets of offspring are different. These eggs start forming a little after maturation, and if they're not fertilized soon enough, they will begin to rot and kill the Queen. (This is why Lovi was in such a rush when he first mated with Antonio). Once they are fertilized, the Queen only has a few days before they begin to produce a chemical that is toxic to the Queen, but paralytic to humans. The Queen _must_ find a suitable host to lay her eggs. They hatch and will eat the host alive before returning to, and living under the Queen's exoskeleton. Then, the Queen will find a live host for her children to move into, thus infecting the host and turning them into a "pawn" of the Queen.

For easier reference, think of an ant colony. The Queen is the only female to mate (in this case, Lovino and Antonio are the only members of the colony that can breed), and all of her children become a part of her hive.

Also, the Queen and her mate will mate for life. They will never choose anyone else. This is the reason Antonio killed Lisa, and why Lisa wanted to get to him first.

Lisa is the only exception to this. After they removed her first clutch, she never had another one. 

**How did Lovino know what was supposed to happen to Antonio?**

In truth, he really didn't. He only knew what was supposed to happen by watching what his brethren did, and by watching how slow their "mates" progressed. He didn't know that they all died. Antonio's transformation was at the correct speed. Lovino didn't know this. Also, he knew a little about human interactions by watching Alfred and Arthur when he was in the office, and yes, Lovino cares deeply about Antonio. This has nothing to do with the love the original Lovino had for the man. 

**Why was Lovino all weak in the beginning?**

Because his insides weren't fully formed when he first immerged from his pupa state. His transformation happens so quickly that it doesn't give his muscles, reproduction organs and other such things time to become fully functional. That is one of the reasons why it is important for him to inject Antonio with those "mind-control" toxins before his transformation began, mainly to insure that he would have something taking care of him until he could get around on his own. 

**Something I found in my notes?**

Alfred was distraught when Lovino died. He managed to get promoted to the head of the weapons department literally hours before the Italian kicked the can. Once Lovi hatched, the two were literally inseparable, leaving some of the scientists worried about the sanity of their boss. Alfred would let Lovi curl up in his pocket and stick his little head out of the opening as he walked around the base or worked in his office. This is how Lovino saw what happened to the D class personnel that was infected with the parasite, and how he knew about his "sisters". That also explains why he didn't want to be in the jar at the beginning. He knew that he was only placed in it whenever he was going to be left alone, and he didn't want to be. It was dark, and scary when he was in that jar, and the creature (The Queen) banging on the walls the next room over scared him to death.

And to be honest, due to this closeness, Alfred was originally going to be the one he chose as a consort, but after he found his way to Antonio, he choose him instead.

This is also why he is extremely friendly with Alfred when they capture him again. He knows the blond wont hurt him.

When they capture Lovi and Toni, Alfred immediately says that they're going to find a way to turn Antonio human again, but his bosses override his rule, saying that they're going to try to mate him to the queen instead. 

**Layman's plot before initial infection**

Feli gets transplant at 13 yrs.

The Vargas Family goes into horrible debt

Family moves and works in a government job.

Feli begins to go downhill again. Lovi begins search.

Toni meets Vargas family. Lovi falls for Toni.

Toni joins government job. Toni and Lovi dance.

Lovi first interview with Eugenics

Toni mistakes Feli for Lovi. Lovi sees. Gets upset. Joins Eugenics' program.

Lovi officially goes missing. Feli gets first check from Al.

Francis joins government job.

Lots and lots of tests on Lovino, getting worse and worse as the years go by.

3 months before actual story, original Lovino dies.

2 weeks later, new Lovino hatches.

Few hours before Antonio asking Feli out, Ludwig and Francis smuggle Lovi out.

During meeting, Lovi finds Antonio and wraps around his leg.

Meeting over, Toni goes home. First bite by Lovino during car ride.

2nd bite once they're in the house.

Next morning, Toni is officially infected. 

* * *

><p><strong>Thank you to everyone who stuck around for this. I know this isn't the best way to end it, but I wanted to at least put a little closure in it.<strong>

**See you when I see you**

**-Self-Titled Demo**


End file.
